Brothers in Arms
by CiZiwejes
Summary: Dean's dying from a hunt and Sam's running on empty until they meet a family of hunters who were strangely connected to them and their father. Basically dying!Dean and Limp!Sam, concern! OCs. Purely brotherly fluff.Epilogue's up! Completed!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : The boys are not mine. Though I really wish they are.

Summary: The boys went on a hunt that went south when Dean's down with a fever. Wounded and broken, they were aided by someone Sam thought he'll never meet again.

Chapter 1

"Damn!"

Sam cursed for God knows how many times as he tripped over a boulder he never sees. If anyone bothered counting, they would agree his mouth should be rinsed with a liquid detergent. Though, anyone wouldn't blame him for using dirty sailor language if they were in his place right now.

Trudging the wet murky woods for almost two hours, at night somewhere in Ohio; where the temperature was at its coldest, didn't help with his mood either. Adding to the insult, their latest gig had gone south. Yep! They got the damn thing to the ground alright, but not without a cost.

……………………….

Desperate for a job after staying low for a week in a motel somewhere in Des Moines, they had agreed for a showdown Bobby went into trouble looking for. Sam didn't mind with laying low at first, at least it would do some good for the cold Dean had had coming down for the last couple of days.

So they lived a normal life – _normal defined by nothing supernatural involved_ – to let Dean recovers because John had drilled them from as long as they could remember to only work when they are at their best. Being sick during a job wouldn't do any good because there would be life at stakes. Sadly, that was the only drill Sam had practiced devotedly, and Dean on the other hand had piously practiced the rest but that one. Dean being Dean couldn't stand the normal more than a day and he showed his agitation by provoking the only person available in the room, Sam.

First, he started by calling Sam, Sammy, Samantha, Sasquatch, sissy – all the Ss nicknames he could think of. The reason, it was simply because Sam had been fussing around with him; Sam forcing food down his throat when he felt more like throwing up, or Sam compromising chick flick moments by checking his temperature every hour or so, or Sam acting like a mother hen and treating him like his chick, or Sam grabbing the remote and switching off the television when Godzilla was on air, and Sam tucking him to bed when his eyes didn't agree. But most of the times, it was simply because it was fun to call Sam names.

But Sam, being Dean's other significant half since forever, was immune to all the nicknames. He ignored them and attended to whatever his brother's needs without fail, though Dean never shows he really need the assistance.

Irate by Sam's submissive acceptance, Dean resorted to complaining on the motel's condition. The bed sheet was too damp, the motel was the worst and coldest they had ever been in, the light was too dull, the channel was boring – everything which Sam indifferently disregard by pretending to being busy surfing the net. Bored by his brother uncaring response, Dean marched around the room – _from bed to the window, to the kitchenette, to the bathroom, to Sam, and back to bed again_ – busying himself doing absolutely nothing.

Everything Dean did, Sam could live with. He remained stern with the decision of staying in the motel for Dean's recovery and he was not going to change his mind on that. Then Dean started doing the unexpected. His dumbass big brother suddenly had thought of something Sam would regret if he disregards it.

Dean started by stripping off his sweatshirt, which Sam had taken as him being hot in layers of shirts Sam had generously pulled over him earlier. But when he started taking off every layer of shirts and then his sweat pants, Sam was dumbstruck.

When Dean gave Sam a goofy grin as he went into the bathroom half naked, closed the door to Sam's face, Sam was still contemplating. Then he heard the shower being turned on, and Sam started banging on the door furiously. Dean had taken a shower earlier - one which he reluctantly agreed; he didn't need a new one. Sam banged and hollered for Dean to come out; threatening to kick the door if he doesn't open it at instant.

Sam was just about to carry out the threat when Dean opened the door and came out trembling frantically. The goofy grin still plastered to his face.

"Deann..!" Sam cringed as he grabbed a towel and draped it over his idiot big brother. He looked over Dean's shoulder and realized there was no steam coming out from the bathroom, implying his brother had not used the hot water. 'Damn!'

Sam was petrified when Dean – still wet and muffled in the towel – went to the window and lifted up the sill, letting the cold winter air into the room with him standing in the middle. With three long strides, Sam reached the window and immediately closed it again.

"Dean!" he shouted resentfully. "What do you think you're doing?"

Dean shot Sam an empty gaze and Sam's breath caught in his chest. Seeing Sam coming in between him and the window, Dean turned to the door. With his lanky arms, Sam caught Dean and wrestled him back to bed. The heat had returned to Dean's skin, far from Sam's liking. The cold shower and the cold air had contributed to it, Sam had no doubt.

Sam pinned Dean to the bed, face down. Dean's attempt to bat him off failed miserably, and Sam thanked his bigger feature and Dean's feverish body.

"I wouldn't think twice to tie you down bro" Sam warned as he kept his leg on Dean's back. Dean's feeble condition wouldn't allow him to budge under the weight of his one leg and Sam thanked that too.

"Okay…okay" Dean panted.

Sam suddenly felt sorry for Dean - and couldn't help feeling sorry for himself for getting the biggest dumbass as a big brother. He loosened the hold but still keeping the leg on Dean's back.

Dean sneezed and Sam recoiled.

"You were getting better" he said regretfully.

"I was dying!" Dean retorted, much to Sam's shock.

"What?"

"Staying in this crappy motel, doing nothing…that is where I'm heading!" Dean moved under Sam's leg, which he had liberally lessened the weight to give his brother air to breathe. Sam stared at Dean wide eyed and then realization hit like a roller coaster.

"Is that why you are torturing yourself with the cold shower and air?" Sam was fuming.

Dean grinned foolishly.

Dean was really a pain-in-the-ass. Sam worked really hard to reduce Dean's temperature for two days and to think of Dean's ravaging madness he had to endure to do that, Sam had the urge of choking his brother with his bare hands. He was thinking of bursting with anger when Dean coughed under him.

As rapidly as the anger resided, sympathy quickly surfaced. He should have known better. Anyone who couldn't stay put even in the face of death, it would be Dean. Give him one week of doing nothing but staring at each others' faces and it would have been too much for Dean to handle, much else being fussed over like a two years old for two days in a row. Dean must have freaked out to death to start acting like a super jerk. At least he was strong enough to last for a whole week; Sam should be giving him a standing ovation for that.

Sam sighed exhaustedly. He stood up from Dean's bed and his brother lazily turned onto his back. Saying nothing, Sam picked up the clothes Dean had tossed randomly all over the room earlier and mounted them on the laying man.

"You want to do it yourself or you want me to do it for you?"

Dean grunted in disapproval "I'm a grown up now, thanks" as he rose weakly, clutching the clothes in his trembling hands.

"Then you should be acting like one" Sam couldn't contain the anger in his tone, though he secretly tried so hard. He watched as his brother put the clothes on, anger and frustration walking on an eggshell.

As he watched Dean putting on the clothes with such a sickening labor, Sam tried acting tough and commanding by not lending a helping hand. He crossed his arms across his broad chest – _more to brace himself from fussing over Dean than to show authority_ – and put on his best serious face. However, later he shook his head in defeat.

When they were kids, Sam had been sick more often than Dean and those times were not the times he could be proud of. He was not really a favorite patient material. Refusing to eat whatever Dean had painfully prepared, smacking away the meds Dean patiently guided into his mouth, kicking and punching when Dean gently tucked him to bed, and shouting and crying madly when Dean hugged him to soothe the pain, were historical –more of hysterical - evidences showing Sam was really not a good patient at all. Now, he was not really a good nurse either.

Dean had been a better patient considering he took in whatever microwave heated craps Sam shoved into his mouth though later he spewed his gut out when his stomach protested. He let Sam helped him to bed, albeit grudgingly but never shouted at him when Sam manhandled him too roughly. Whatever meds Sam handed to him, Dean would swallow without much protest and hesitation. Among other things he let Sam did, Dean wouldn't tolerate to only one thing; Sam soothing him when he was in pain. Dean would smack away Sam's curious hand reaching to test the heat on his forehead, let alone to let Sam hug him.

Sam decided, compared to what he'd been enduring all day, it wouldn't match what Dean had painstakingly endured with him when they were kids. So, he let the serious face down and his arms went lax to his side as he perched on Dean's bedside, assisting him to put on the clothes.

Dean was being an ass as he smacked away Sam's helping hands but later hunched his feature in defeat as his feeble limbs betrayed him so bad. The trembles snaking throughout his entire body made it hard for him to even pull his shirt on. Deep inside, he regretted carrying out his dumb selfish act. Not only he felt physically worse than before, his heart sank when he saw the frustration in Sam's hazel eyes.

Dean eyed Sam under his droopy lids; looking away when Sam's eyes accidentally met his. Either Sam didn't see it or simply ignored it, Dean was thankful his little brother didn't push. They worked on the clothes quietly Dean felt the back of his neck prickled.

"I'm sorry for being such a jerk" Dean whispered a little too inaudible.

"What?"

Now the jerk was Sam. He heard it right but torturing Dean when he was letting his feeling out was really an invitation Sam couldn't resist and Dean knew.

"You heard it and I'm not going to repeat" Dean murmured, looking away with his face feeling so hot. _Thank God for fever flush_.

Sam smiled for the first time in a week. He had dealt a lot with sick Dean to know the tinge of red on his face was not fever flush. Sam silently wished for the female species of every living thing could see Dean right now. Then they would torment him with all the oohs and the aahs and the awws, saying he was cute and adorable and all – _which Sam knew Dean wouldn't have survived listening to_. Handsome he would be proud of, but not cute. Dean always said cute was for kittens and puppies, not for men.

The youngest Winchester shook his head, this time in glee.

"Yeah! I'm sorry too" Sam said and shook his index finger to Dean's face, telling him not to go further than where he had already been. If he let Dean get the liberties of continuing, he would rattled for hours on how bad a nurse Sam was, or how Sam was a boring companion, or how Sam disturbed his sleep at nights with his snoring and et cetera.

They exchanged looks for a second or two before Dean submitted to his weariness. He rubbed his tired and scorching eyes with the heel of his palm, hoping quietly the pain behind his lids would go away.

"Still I think I'm going to die soon" he grumbled somewhat incoherently. His voice sounded gruff and croaky, like it was being rubbed by sandpaper.

Sam's shoulders slumped as he sighed deeply. "Okay, I promise you this" he was willing to compromise at last. Why not throw the dog a bone?

"What Sammy?" Dean began to slur as he burrowed deeper into the bedcover.

"We stay in for one more day" Sam tried negotiating. "After one day, healthy or not I'll ring Bobby and have him look us a job" Sam offered as he smoothed Dean's bedcover.

"What do you get from this?" knowing Sam, Dean smelled something fishy up his sleeve.

"Nothing" Sam looked at him innocently. "Well, maybe you could behave for one day" he was feeling guilty as he would ever be. A day of attending Dean with a cold, he had already asked him to compromise.

"Aww…Sammy, you know I'd been" Dean smiled a little. Feverish lids dropping weakly as consciousness started drifting off.

"Yeah…like a jerk you'd always been" Sam rolled his eyes, and then winced seeing the pain-induced scrunch under Dean's eyes and forehead. "You won't lose anything, at the end of the day you still win"

"Make it tomorrow Sam" Dean huffed.

Sam grunted tiredly. _This is not going anywhere_. If negotiating wouldn't work, maybe he could try reasoning. "No Dean, you have to get well to be able to cover my back and one night is not enough"

"But Sammy…I always managed to cover your back, sick or not" Dean pushed on.

"Come on dude, take it or leave it" Sam's words were final. "After all, I'm at advantage here" if negotiation and reasoning didn't work, he always has threats.

"Nice Sam, kick a man when he's down" Dean looked at Sam under half closed lids. Sam was right though, if Sam opts for the worst like tying him down on the bed or knocking him unconscious, Dean wouldn't be able to fight back; not in his recent state.

"Dean…" Sam switched on the last weapon in his arsenal, the drenched puppy look which always worked on melting his big brother's heart. "Work with me here"

Dean gulped. "Damn it Sam" he bit his lips shamefully. He would die because of that puppy look someday, but he couldn't live without it either. "One day! No more!" Dean surrendered with a harsh humph.

Sam almost jumped with joy. He knew the look would always win against his brother's stoic personality. He grinned stupidly, just like a kid who had just gotten a candy won over a fight with his sibling.

"Now…will you please let me die in peace?" Dean pulled the bedcover over his shoulder as he rolled to his side, his back at Sam. He was too tired to hold on any longer. The longer the negotiation went on, the more his consciousness started giving away. It was his ego which was keeping him up. Closing his eyes, he felt a slight crease on his bed and he heard Sam's sneakered feet shuffled on the carpeted floor; signs that Sam had left his bedside and went to his own.

"I'm not going to let you die period!" Sam smiled as he switched off the bedside lamp. Sam gave a last look at Dean and realized his big brother had fallen asleep even before Sam reached his bed. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head in amusement.

"Good night Dean" Sam listed on his side, facing Dean so he'd be alerted if Dean ever needed anything. Then, he closed his eyes and fell asleep without even trying.

…………………………….

That was then. Dean had agreed to stay in for one more day. He had been submissive, letting Sam played nurse and messed with his being every now and then. So, his jerk brother had kept his words and Sam had kept his. That was how they ended like they were now, trudging in the wet woods somewhere in Ohio, in the middle of its coldest weather.

"Crap!" Sam cursed again.

TBC

a/n : I am really a new writer in Supernatural fandom and I'm not an English language first speaker either. I don't have a beta reader (yet) so the errors are all mine. Because I'm not from the States, please forgive me if there's any mistakes on the places and details. Please tell me if I should continue. Thanks for reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer : The boys are definitely not mine (sad sad fact)

Chapter 2

"Crap!"

Sam cursed again as he felt the weight he had been carrying for the last fifteen minutes was getting heavier by the seconds. It was not a burden, but the weight getting heavy meaning situation had just turned to worse.

"Sorry Sam"

"Shut up Dean!" Sam hissed as he shifted Dean's arm which was slung around his shoulder and tightened his grasp at Dean's belt loop, adjusting his brother's weight on his own. "Just stay awake okay?"

"'Kay" Dean nodded wearily and tried standing up straight. The attempt made him panted exhaustedly and Sam cringed with sympathy.

Dean was not really heavy; at least not heavier than Sam. He could always put Dean on his shoulder and give him a fireman's carry. It would fasten their pace; end their journey to the car sooner and save Dean from unbearable pain and fatigue. But Sam needed Dean to stay awake and the only mean to make him do that was to keep him moving on his own.

"Just hold on a little longer Dean" Sam urged as he gazed Dean's paled face. His brother's face had turned fearfully white and somehow looked years older than he really aged. Dean's brown hair was plastered to his forehead and was drenched with sweat. Sam thought Dean's skin was far too hot in the freezing weather, and yet he was shivering violently.

Sam cursed silently, blaming himself for giving in to Dean's request yesterday and blaming Dean for being such an annoying big brother. If Dean wasn't as annoying as he was, he wouldn't have give in to him when he asked Sam to find them a gig, this gig. A gig that had went south.

……………………………………….

It was Pukwudgies. Three-feet tall troll-like beings Bobby believed were responsible for several unexplainable suicides at the forest's ledge over the last couple of months. The authorities took the suicides as results of the increasing of depression among the states folk. Well, Bobby thought to hell with the authorities. People didn't mess with a Pukwudgie, not when it was easily irritated by humans.

The state authorities had decided to turn the forest into a reserved, open to the public a year ago. There had been camping, jungle hiking, cave exploring and lots of other extreme activities that would have disturbed the creatures' lair and it must have enraged the Pukwudgie very bad.

Pukwudgie, according to Native American lore was said to be vengeful towards human and would kill if they were disturbed. It killed its victims by pushing them off a ravine or a cliff; always had them misunderstood as suicide.

Not wanting to go for a hunt without any preparation, Dean and Sam had first went to meet the victims' friends or family to confirm what they had in mind. The latest victim, a 17 years old boy, said to commit suicide in the forest by jumping off the cliff because he was devastated for failing to get offers from any college. That was said by the newspapers. However, when Sam and Dean met his parents, they denied the statement strongly; stressing that David was a determined person, a failure like that won't affect him at all. They also said he had moved on, taking on a part time job and night classes, and that he was happy with his new girlfriend Kayla.

Most of the families and friends that Sam and Dean went to see agreed that the victims didn't suffer any depression as claimed by the authorities. They simply went to the forest to spend some time with nature.

"If only they knew what lurks in nature" Dean had generously commented before they went into the woods two hours ago. "Then they'd hate camping like we do"

So, into the woods they went; taking with them iron rounds and silver bullets. At least any of them should work. They prayed that the weapons would work because they'd be in big trouble if they don't.

Sam was still hesitating when they started trudging into the woods. Dean was not well enough but a promise had to be kept. After all, Dean had kept his by behaving a little too nicely; making Sam contemplated on splashing the holy water on Dean, or shooting him with rock salt. Fine! Let him have all the fun now, then Sam would make sure Dean goes back to bed whether he like it or not. Maybe he would tie Dean to the bed this time. Or gag his mouth with a rag. Sam would like that.

…………………………………….

That was then, this was now. Now Sam was determined he would drag Dean to bed even if it costs his life. After all, he was half dragging half carrying Dean now. Dean was barely walking on his own as consciousness started to ebb away.

"Dean! Not now!" Sam said urgently as he felt Dean started leaning too much weight on him.

"Am…tired Sam-my" Dean whimpered, making Sam's neck prickled. Situation _is_ getting worse.

"Hold on Dean…we're not that far" Sam almost pled. He knew it was unfair to do it now, but he needed to. So, the puppy eyes came out in full force.

"Sammy…" Dean slurred. Sam heard him muttering 'Won't work…' before Dean's went white eyed and fell face plant to the ground, bringing Sam down with him.

"Dean?" Sam rolled Dean onto his back and shook his body vigorously. No respond. "Dean!"

…………………………………

After an hour of searching, they found the creatures' lair, and were surprised to find out they were able to transform into another animal. No wonder witnesses claimed they saw a bear instead of a three-foot tall troll-like creature of some sort. Not only they were able to use poison arrows as means of attacking, they could appear and disappear at their own will; which made it hard for Sam and Dean to focus when they came in contact with a nest of Pukwudgies. It was like they were fighting a bunch of cunning fairies; playful and dangerous at the same time.

Sam never really leaves Dean's side all the time they were fighting the Pukwudgies. But there was one time the creatures lured Sam away from Dean by running into the direction Sam knew a campfire resided. Dean had shouted for him to go after it, to save innocents' blood from being spilled. Sometime Sam wondered what they have done to not be regarded as innocent themselves.

So, Sam went after the pukwudgies, leaving Dean behind to fight another bunch of the pain-in-the-ass creatures. They each got a group to be slain. But Sam really forgot that Dean was in no state of fighting even a couple of monstrous child-like being which could disappear into thin air, much else using magic to distract their opponents.

Dean was having a high fever by the time they left the motel. Dean with a high fever was Dean without the ability to think rationally, a delusional Dean. He couldn't walk a straight line – _though his aims were still accurate_ – and could barely stand up straight without panting for the effort. Sam made a mistake of leaving Dean alone fighting the fuckwudgies – _that's what Sam started calling them after they messed up with his brother_.

While Sam was away, chasing a couple of Pukwudgies from spilling innocence's blood, Dean was tossed to a tree, was shot with poisonous arrows, and was pinned down to the ground mercilessly. But somehow Dean managed to annihilate all his attackers by the time Sam came back; finding him slumped under a tree, almost oblivious and completely delirious.

After an immediate assessment on Dean's condition, Sam discovered severe damage to his ribs – _none broken, but still it would hurt like hell_, a possible concussion judging on the blood dripping on one side of his head, and some swellings which gave in a nasty color of red on his arms and back. The ribs and the concussion, Sam could deal with. But the swellings, Sam knew better he was helpless with them. They were caused by poison from the pukwudgies' arrows. One arrow shouldn't endanger anyone because one arrow didn't hold a lethal dose of poison. They were minute. But a number of them – _fifteen altogether on Dean's body_ – would result in fatality.

"Dean?" Sam called worriedly. He cupped Dean's cheek and lifted his brother's face a little. "Dean?" now he sounded desperate.

"Sammy…kk-killed them all" Dean opened his eyes in slits. Sam found the green eyes were eerily glassy and watery.

"Yeah Dean, you killed them all" Sam rubbed his brother's cheek with the pad of his thumb and smiled a little when he felt Dean was leaning into his touch.

"M' good" Dean sneered with pride, much to Sam relief.

"You're the best" Sam realized Dean had begun to slur and his lids started to drop. "Hey Dean?"

Dean opened his eyes again, looking at Sam with a gaze so weak it made Sam's stomach churned. "Yeah Sam?"

"Are you okay?"

"Peachy" Dean brought his two thumbs up but then Sam could see the labor in Dean's attempt to ease Sam's worries.

"Dean, we need to get you to the car…can you walk?" Sam asked, rather foolishly because he didn't need an answer to know Dean would not be able to walk without assistance. But he'd been living with his brother too long to immediately offer him crutches whenever he was down. Dean had let Sam sees him being an invalid, Sam could at least spare Dean some dignity to live with.

Dean nodded weakly. Propping on one hand, Dean heaved himself up; almost stumbling down again during the effort. All the while, Sam's hand hovered warily inches from Dean's figure; ready to assist whenever was needed.

After toiling to stand up, Dean flashed Sam his infamous cocky smile. It was the triumphant smile he would give Sam when he was able to do something without Sam's help. Despite of his victory, Dean was all wobbly and shaky as he stood on his feet.

"Come on"

Sam waited for Dean to start walking. It took him only a couple of strides before Dean fell on his knees and started to gag. Whatever he had eaten that day rolled out from his stomach in laps of violent heaving. Sam couldn't help cringing at the painful sight. He came over and offered Dean some comfort by rubbing his brother's arching back. Dean shuddered at the touch of his hand, making Sam wondered whether he had hurt him.

After all the food was spewed harshly from his digestive trait, leaving nothing but a cramped abdominal muscle, Dean sat back on his heels. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed tiredly.

Sam was getting anxious. They could not afford wasting more time. The longer they were in the woods, the worse Dean would get. He had to get him out of there as soon as possible before the poison could contaminate Dean's system.

"You're good?" Sam flinched at how demanding he sounded.

"Yeah" Dean whispered back and Sam felt guilty as hell to hear the pain in his brother's croaky voice. A part of him wanted to get Dean to safety and to treat him immediately but the other part of him wanted to let Dean rest. "Good to go" Dean nodded and started rising on his feet.

Even before he could move his body, Dean's stomach decided not to give him any break. He went into another round of heaving, this time his gut spewed nothing but clear liquid and air. Sam ran a hand over his shaggy hair, realizing the situation was not as good as he thought it was. The poison was fast flooding Dean's system, assisted by Dean's already weakened body.

After dry heaving a couple of times and letting out a painful whimper in between, Dean shook his head and tried standing up. Sam didn't ask this time around but he straight away gave Dean a helpful hand; sliding a hand under his brother's arm and pulling him up to his feet.

Dean didn't reject Sam's offering, a sign for Sam that Dean was feeling terrible. He let Sam took his arm and sled it around Sam's shoulder, another sign to let Sam knows Dean was not feeling so hot.

"Sammy, this gig sucks" Dean gave an honest comment.

"Crystal clear" Sam smiled tightly.

Dean looked down to his feet, to his pool of sickness and cringed with disgust. "No more tacos for lunch" he murmured and smirked shamefully; grinning foolishly at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. He hoped silently they would reach the Impala in time before Dean lost whatever strength he had left in him.

…………………………….

Sam's hopes crumbled as they hadn't reached the Impala and Dean was already a heap of mess on the forest floor. Dean lied on the ground, sweating and shivering furiously. His eyes moved frantically under his lids, as if he was having a terrible nightmare. His head tossed and turned in what seemed useless attempts to wake up.

"Dean…come on man, wake up"

Dean gave no respond and Sam started panicking. He put a hand on Dean's sweaty forehead and flinched at the scorching heat radiating from his brother's body. Dean's already fevered body was made severe with the raging poison ravaging his system. Sam's hand started fishing for the mobile phone inside his jeans pocket.

He didn't realize he was trembling hard until he saw the phone shook madly in his grasp; he almost dropped it. With haste, Sam dialed Bobby's number but his fingers were stunned when he saw there was no coverage in the area. "Damn it!" Sam almost crushed the phone with his fingers.

They were too obsessed for a showdown they came in unprepared for the worst. They hadn't research enough on the Pukwudgies and didn't even bother to look for antidotes for the Pukwudgies' poison. Sam cursed himself for being ignorant and careless – _something he had been doing too often lately_.

Sam looked down to his broken brother. Dean was delirious now; rambling about something Sam couldn't understand. Guess even in this state Dean wouldn't reveal his four months in hell to Sam. Even in his oblivion, Dean still acted the stoic big brother who less likely to share his feelings with his expressionist baby brother. It just pissed Sam off.

Sliding his arms under Dean, across his back and another under his knees, Sam was just about to pick him up when he heard footsteps shuffling in the shrubs ahead of them. He grabbed his shotgun, and pointed to the direction of the approaching object. Silently, he hoped it was just some innocent campers wandering around looking for firewood, not another bunch of funny looking three-foot-tall gremlin-like being. They just couldn't afford being attacked now. Not in this condition.

Sam stood up on his feet, ready to pull the trigger and waited for his enemy to show up. One minute, two…three, nothing came out from the shrubs. Sam's brows twitched. He lowered the shotgun and suddenly two figures jumped out from the shrubs, knocking him down to the ground. His shotgun was seized from him. Everything happened so fast Sam didn't get the chance to see his opponents' faces. He was damn sure they were human and not the pukwudgies – _at least it was a relief_. But he couldn't be too sure, maybe they were demons. _'Damn it!'_

Sam was pinned to the ground, his attacker's knee crushing his spine, his face planted to the ground. He couldn't even budge a muscle. "Check on him" he heard the man on top of him giving order to his subordinate. He heard booted foot trudging towards Dean and it made his blood pumped harshly in his veins.

"He's alive…but severely injured" the other man reported back. This man sounded younger than the one pinning Sam down.

"Good!" Sam's attacker sighed with relief. Relief? Sam was not sure he heard it right. Were his attackers relieved to hear Dean was alive?

"If you don't do something…he won't be alive for long!" Sam screamed. He could not afford this. He needed to get Dean to safety, somewhere he could be treated before his condition got worse beyond repair.

"Who are you to him?" the younger man asked.

Grunting irately, Sam spat the dirt he had in his mouth and said "He's my brother and he's dying!" sounding annoyed and worried at the same time. 'Who are these people anyway?'. He had been practicing arm combat from as long as he could remember and yet these men outdid him in seconds.

Sam felt the weight on his back lightened and later was pulled away from him. Still, the hand on his neck was hesitating. But then, Sam found himself free from the brutal manhandles. Quickly, he shot up and away from his attacker.

"What's wrong with your brother?" the man who held him down asked with a firm voice.

Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the man's feature. However, darkness didn't help much with his effort. The man was shadowed as he stood straight in the dark, almost invisible to sight. Sam gave up and went to get Dean, not bothering to answer the question.

He squatted next to Dean and checked his brother's pulse. _Thank God!_ At least the pulse was still there though not really encouraging. "I need to get him helped" Sam whispered, more to himself than to the strangers.

"You don't look like any campers here"

Sam grunted with unexplainable annoyance. He got no time for this. Dean's time was running out. He shot up and looked at the two men with eyes flared with anger. "We went into the woods to hunt for a pukwudgie, instead we found a nest" Sam blurted. "We weren't prepared and Dean was shot with the creatures' poisoned arrows, now he's dying!"

The men were dumbfounded. Sam could sense that as he heard their breath caught.

"That's our story…so if you are not of any help, I suggest you step away and let us go through" Sam crouched again, sliding his arms under Dean's knees and back and with one pull gathered his brother's limp figure to his torso.

"You killed them?" the question made Sam swirled around with shock. He never thought they were going to buy the story. No normal people would believe his story; they would just regard him as lunatic on the loose.

"What?!" Sam couldn't help asking.

"The pukwdugies…you killed them all?" the man repeated; the same man pinning Sam down a little while ago.

"Well…sort of" Sam hesitated, wondering whether the men were the lunatics. He tried focusing on the men's faces again. "Come out into the light so I can see you"

The taller man moved and he stepped into the light, looking at Sam face to face. Sam studied the face and his mouth went agape. So did the man's.

"Kyle?"

"Sam? Sam Winchester?!"

TBC

a/n: Hope you enjoy reading this fic so far. The next updates are going to have a lot of sick Dean and worried Sam. Thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm waiting for the revised version from my lovely beta. I'll be uploading when it's available. Take care.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Neither Dean nor Sam were rightfully mine. But they were just too cute to be left alone.

CHAPTER 3

_The taller man moved and he stepped into the light, looking at Sam face to face. Sam studied the face and his mouth went agape. So did the man's._

"_Kyle?"_

"_Sam? Sam Winchester?!"_

……………………………………..

Sam felt his limbs went numb and blood rushed to his face in a violent rush. "Kyle Callahan?" he had to double check. As they stared at each other dumbfounded, the younger man came over and patted his companion's shoulder.

"Kyle? You know him?"

"It's Sam, Matt"

"_The_ Sam?"

Sam had a feeling he didn't need to be introduced; that he was already well-known somehow. By the way the young man jaw dropped when he heard his name, Sam knew his name went around quite well.

Suddenly Sam's face was splashed with water, burning his eyes and chocking him breathless. "Geez! What's that for?" Sam almost didn't dare to ask. He ran a sleeved arm across his face and wiped the liquid away. Somehow, he knew what the liquid was and why he was splashed with it.

"I'm not a demon Kyle!" Sam snapped and found his voice caught in his throat. Once again, he heard the gasps in the men's breath.

"A man can't be too careful" Kyle grinned as he shoved the bottle of holy water back into his jacket pocket.

"I thought I was never going to see you again buddy" Kyle grabbed Sam's arms and shook him once. Sam was so sure if he was not holding Dean, he would be pulled into a huge bear hug.

"Me too man…it's been so long" Sam's breathe hitched.

Sam studied Kyle's face. His face was rougher and tighter than of Kyle he used to know in Stanford. Even his grasps were firmer and unhesitant. Sam wondered what Kyle saw in him right now.

"We better get your brother out of here" Kyle's eyes wandered on Dean's limp body. "If you were right about the poison, we don't have much time left" there was urgency in his voice. Sam couldn't agree more. Bringing Dean out from there, and getting help for his condition was the only thing playing in his mind right now.

Sam draped Dean over his shoulder, lifting him in a full fireman's lift. He secured one arm around Dean's legs to avoid them from dangling and later inflicting unwanted injuries from hitting anything on their way out of the woods. "Hang on Dean" he wished silently. His wish was replied with a soft murmur coming out from Dean's parched lips "Sam..my" and it wrenched Sam's heart to hear how weak his brother sounded.

"Matt, you lead the way" Kyle gave out an order to the younger man and the latter albeit hesitant, followed the order in a way that reminded Sam of himself. Kyle looked at Sam "Go Sam"

Sam obeyed and started tramping after Matt while Kyle secured them at the back. Looking back in a quick glance, Sam couldn't help feeling weird. It had been long since somebody was looking after their back. He felt weird really, to be taken care of. Even feeling secured in other people's hands was peculiar. But then, he had no right to be picky.

So they tramped through the woods until they came into a halt in front of 1970 Dodge Challenger which Sam knew would have Dean whistling with awe. Dean was always a muscle car freak. He knew everything about a car. Give him one hell of a wrecked car, and he would rebuild it without hassle. The Impala itself was strong evidence. It was shattered way beyond repair after the brutal crash – _even Bobby raised the white flag_ – but still Dean was able to repair it until it looked almost new.

"Nice car" the words came out spontaneously.

"Thanks dude" Kyle turned to Matt and the latter tossed the car key to him. He caught it swiftly with his hands and later opened the door for Sam. "Get you brother in the backseat"

"Kyle" Matt called timidly. His tone made Sam's heart jumped. It reminded him of something so familiar yet so distant. "Are you sure we should be doing this?" Matt fidgeted with his baseball cap, looking nervous and unsure at the same time.

"What do you mean Matt?" Kyle asked, rather annoyed. "We're trying to save a man's life here"

"He's going to be mad…" Matt reasoned.

Kyle sighed wearily. "Matt, we don't have time for this…he's dying and you know he's the only person who can help" there was urge in his voice, almost commanding.

"Yeah, but…" Matt hadn't had the chance to finish when Kyle interrupted.

Sam had no idea who was 'he' that Kyle and Matt were talking about but 'he' surely had such strong influence on both of them. A man who had a similar effect on him and Dean popped in his mind, but Sam quickly shook him away from his thought. Thinking about him made his heart ached.

"I'll be responsible" Kyle reassured. "Now would you please help Sam?"

Matt nodded as he put the baseball cap back to where it supposed to be. He came over to Sam and helped him settled Dean at the backseat of the Challenger. "Sorry man, for putting you in trouble" he spoke softly to Matt who was securing Dean with a worn out blanket taken out from the car trunk.

"Nah…I'll do it anyway" Matt smiled. Sam returned the smile with one of his own.

"Darn!" Sam remembered something and he slammed the door closed. He forgot about the Impala. They couldn't just leave it like that. Dean would kill him if he did.

"Something's wrong?" Matt asked curiously. Sam's face must have turned white to have Matt sensing the tense in him.

"I've forgotten about the car" he scratched his head.

"We'll come back for it later" Kyle suggested.

Sam contemplated at the option. He had two things that matter the most in his two hands. On one side, he had Dean fighting for his life in someone else's car and on the other hand he had Dean's life left somewhere nearby. If he leaves Dean's baby, Dean would surely kill him. If he leaves Dean, he would kill himself. Sam cringed at the thought.

"Sam, we don't have much time you know?" Kyle insisted. He was already behind the wheel, had the ignition on, only waiting for Sam to make up his mind. Sam was brought back to reality.

'The heck with it…I'll come for it later' he decided mentally. Just as he was about to enter the car, right beside Dean, he was welcomed with a shocking sight. Dean had opened his eyes, looking at him gravely. "Dean?" he had hopes residing inside him.

"Ma' baby…Sammy" Dean whined before he shut his eyes and fell into another restless slumber. Sam went stiff. Kyle and Matt looked at Dean unbelievingly. Then their eyes turned to Sam as he worked his way out of the car.

"I've got to get the car…Dean will be furious if I leave it behind" Sam explained as he leaned at the driver's window.

Kyle sighed dejectedly. He turned to Matt who was riding shotgun and the young man quickly understood. Matt opened his door and got out of the car, closing the door behind him and jogged his way around the car towards Sam.

"Matt will show you the way" Kyle looked up to Sam.

Sam studied Matt and nodded. Then he ran his eyes over Dean. His brother was totally out. Chest rising and sinking lazily, face pale - almost white, sweats trickling, breath hitched and caught in his chest, Sam barely knew him as Dean. He barely knew him these days.

"Take care of him will ya?" Sam turned to Kyle.

"You can count on me dude" Kyle winked and he revved the car away from there, leaving Sam and Matt behind, standing rigidly next to each other.

"Let's go!" Sam didn't want to be left behind. He needed to be close to Dean, he knew Dean needed him. He started running towards the Impala, parked a couple of hundred meters away from there. Matt trailed closely behind him.

'Please be safe Dean' Sam hoped silently. He couldn't lose his brother now, not when he had just got him back from the hands of hell.

…………………………………………

He felt cold. So damn cold. Someone was shaking him, jerking him awake from his nightmare. 'Go away!' he opened his mouth, intending to scream at his assailant. But nothing came out. The shaking got harder, making his head throbbed painfully with each shakes. 'Leave me alone!' still no sound came out.

Dean was desperate. He cracked his eyes lazily as they felt as heavy as rocks. They opened in slits, halfway to closing again. Then he realized no one was shaking him. It was he himself. His body was trembling furiously; muscles twitching and jerking in waves of spasms. He regretted waking up, only to be greeted by pain and agony.

As another wave of seizure rocked his body, Dean gritted his teeth, clenched his jaw and suppressed an agonizing moan. The first time, he made it. But when his body went into another series of spasm, Dean couldn't help but groaned excruciatingly. _'My…I am so screwed'._

"Dude! Are you okay?"

Dean heard a distant voice. _'Sammy…'_ and he felt relaxed already. He waited for the comforting touch he was always reluctant to receive when he's conscious but nothing came.

'_Sammy?'_

Did Sammy hate him so much he didn't want to touch him at all? Dean's heart sank. _'It's because I didn't behave right? You asked me to behave but I didn't. I'm sorry Sammy, I truly am.'_ Dean didn't realize it but he was whining sadly in his pain-induced sleep that it prickled the neck of the man behind the wheel.

…………………………………

Kyle was speeding over the county's speed limit when he heard stirring in the backseat. So he turned around only to find Sam's brother writhing in agony. The broken man was moaning and whimpering painfully and Kyle was damn sure the poison actively doing its job wrecking the man's body.

"Dude! Are you okay?" he asked warily. If the Challenger's gas pedal was made of wood, Kyle was affirmative it would have break into pieces. He was stepping on it with tremendous strength his foot had gone numb. 'Shit!' he was becoming more and more stressed when Dean started groaning when his body was wrecked by fits of seizures.

Kyle searched for his phone in his jacket and straight away dialed a number recalled from memory. He tapped on the wheel nervously as he waited for the call to be picked up. Then he heard a gruff hello at the end of the line.

"Dad?!" Kyle sounded desperate. "I'm bringing home a wounded hunter" he blurted the line impatiently.

He cringed at the man's replies and the rising of his tone. "No dad! Trust me on this!" and listened again.

"He was poisoned by the Pukwudgies" Kyle's tone changed when the man's changed. "No…dad, please"

As he got the man's final decision, Kyle ended the call and turned to have another look at Dean. "Shit!" he cursed aloud seeing Dean was coughing violently. But that was not what made him cursed. Dean was cupping his mouth and there was blood gushing out from in between his fingers, wetting his cloth and the car's leather cushion.

"We're so fuckin' screwed!" Kyle made a hasty turn to the right, now wishing the Challenger could go more than 300km per hour.

"Hang on man!" Kyle reached out a hand to Dean in a way that would shame a gymnast while his eyes remained on the road. He rubbed Dean's back with the hope of soothing the man's discomfort. He stopped reaching when he felt the vein in his shoulder snapped.

"Just hang on, we're almost there" now both hands back on the steering wheel, Kyle couldn't keep his mind away from the wounded man fighting for his life at the backseat of his Challenger.

…………………………………

"Dad?!"

There was a voice and Dean was taken aback hearing the so-damn-familiar word and desperation in it. That was the only thing he heard, the rest was a blur and distant. '_Dad's here?_' Dean cracked an eye, looking around for the questioned man.

'_No, he can't be…he's dead'_ Dean's lips trembled sadly. '_He died because of me'_

'_Sam must have been mad at me because I killed dad…'_ Dean gathered his knees to his torso and rolled to his other side, facing the seat rather than towards Sam. He tried muffling into the familiar leathery scent of his baby but failed miserably. Somehow his baby smelt different.

'_You turned your back on me too?_' Dean was heartbroken. _'You're mad at me because I hit you_?' whimpering sadly, Dean could feel a cough coming out from his gurgling lungs. He brought a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the incoming cough. When it came at last, Dean was thrashed into brutal series of coughing. His lungs felt like they were on fire and Dean was sure he was hacking pieces of them when his mouth tasted something coppery.

Dean couldn't care less. Like anybody cares if he coughed out his lungs. Dad had abandoned him, the Impala too. And Sammy, Sammy never really cares about him anymore. They were all angry at him. _Dean's a bad boy_ – the words rang in his ears.

"Hang on man!"

There's that voice again. This time, it was not the voice alone. Someone reached for his back and was rubbing it soothingly, almost lulling him back to sleep. Amazingly, his cough seized at once and once again he felt relaxed. Guess Sammy's not really mad at him.

Dean let fatigue took over him and again, he fell into an infinite darkness.

…………………………………..

Sam gripped the steering wheel white knuckled. The forces of his grip could break the wheel into halves and Sam realized Dean wouldn't like that. So he relaxed a bit, practicing the yoga breathing technique he'd learnt from a video tape in some cracked up motel they'd been staying along the way. Although Dean thought it was sissy Sam found it worked on helping him relax.

"Your brother's gonna' be fine" Sam jumped a little; now realizing he had somebody riding in with him.

Nobody ever ride shotgun with him, only Dean. Even when Dean was down in the pit, when Sam was accompanied by Ruby, he rode the Impala alone. He never let Ruby touched Dean's baby once, knowing Dean would rather die than letting her in. He didn't want anyone who got nothing to do with Dean to ride in his baby. That was the least he could do when he failed at resurrecting Dean.

"Yeah" Sam didn't even believe in himself. To avoid thinking about Dean, Sam tried to be friendly "How long have you and Kyle known each other?"

"Since forever" Matt replied. "We're brothers"

Sam swallowed dryly. So there was other side to Kyle that he didn't know. He thought he knew so much about him but then Sam couldn't blame Kyle since he was secretive too. What goes around comes around. Studying Matt, he supposed the kid was in his early twenties.

"So…uhh, you're a hunter?" Matt asked.

"Uhh?" Sam stammered. "Yeah" he took longer time to reply. The past taught the Winchesters not to trust in people easily because the last time they made friends with a hunter, he turned to be a lunatic who was hungry for blood. Sam shuddered when he thought about Gordon, the way he died and all.

"Our life sucks man" Matt offered an honest comment, and Sam couldn't agree more. There's nothing new there. "Take the right" he sat up straight as if looking for the car ahead of them. Nothing.

Sam turned the wheel, swerving the car into the right corner. They were far behind the Challenger; Sam couldn't even see it on the road ahead of them. His heart was thumping harshly in his ribcage; somehow he could sense something wrong happening in the Challenger and the look on Matt's face confirmed what he had in mind.

"This is not good" Matt mumbled. "You better step on the gas…" he didn't need to continue as Sam already stepping full force on the gas pedal, boosting the speed and sending both of them jerking back from the momentum.

'You know your dad's in danger don't you?'

The Impala seemed to know Dean was not in the car; that he was dying in someone else's car. It rode smoothly along the road, no hesitation. Sam couldn't imagine how the Impala would lavish Dean if it was a real person.

'Step on it girl!' and that was going to be the first and the last time Sam called the Impala 'girl'.

TBC

a/n: Thanks for reading. Hope you're still enjoying the story. I know the chapter's a bit dull. But I feel there's a need for the brothers to connect. Geez, I think I started better than the rest of the chapters. Then again, thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer : The Winchester boys are the property of Mr. Kripke, not mine.

Chapter 4

"We're here" Matt announced as Sam brought the Impala into a halt in front of a log cabin. Sam stepped on the brake so hard they were both sent jerking forward. He straightened himself and studied the area.

The cabin was situated in the middle of the woods, nearby the lake, isolated from civilization. The nearest residence should be miles away. Though clearly forsaken, the cabin was in good condition. At least there's smoke coming out from the vent. Sam didn't care about the cabin, but he was relieved to see the Challenger parked in the yard.

Sam turned off the ignition while Matt hopped out from the Impala, eyes looking towards the wooden porch. Sam's breath snagged when he saw Kyle darting out through the front door, running towards him with ashen white face. '_Oh God! Please don't let it happen'_

Kyle reached him before Sam could even open his door; he did it for him. For God's sake, Sam almost black out when Kyle hauled him out of the car and half dragged him to the cabin. He was chanting Dean's name in his head and Sam barely see where he's headed.

Things were happening so slow to Sam, as if it had stopped. Everything moved in slow motions and suddenly the world turned so quiet the only sound Sam heard was the beating of his heart. His heart went da-dum-da-dum in his ribcage and it pounded so hard Sam's chest ached.

"Get a grip on yourself Sam, your brother needs you!" Kyle's voice was what brought him back into real world. '_Dean needs me? So, he's still alive?_'. The moment Sam's feet were back on the ground, he was already standing inside the cabin, rigid right in front of the door. He didn't even remember walking in.

In the middle of the cabin, slumped tiredly on the couch, coughing out blood, writhing in pain, and screaming and kicking into the air was Dean. There was an older man pinning him down to the couch; holding his arms as Dean thrashed about fiercely in a pain-driven oblivion.

"You! Get your ass over here and keep him still!" the harsh order made Sam's heart jumped. The older man was piercing through him with his stare, making Sam shuddered. The commanding tone in his voice reminded Sam strongly of his old man.

Sam found himself falling under the man's charm as he rushed to Dean's side and took over the man's role as human weight. He crawled onto Dean, grabbing his arms and pinning his body to the couch using his own weight. "What's happening?" his voice was croaky, driven by madding concern.

"The poison's kicking in, making him delirious" Kyle explained as he held on to Dean's ankles. Dean was physically powerful despite his condition; Kyle had to use all the might he had to hold him down. He had almost been tossed to the floor by Dean's unbelievable strength. "Other than that, it was really the pain"

Sam's tears started to pool at the corner of his eyes as he digested the information in his head. '_Dean was in a lot of pain…he was in a lot of pain he was thrashing like this, oh God!'_. Dean's face had turned awfully blue – he was hyper ventilating, and every intake of breath was a labor. Sitting on Dean, Sam could feel the heat emitting from his brother's body and the twitching and twisting of his muscles.

"Matt, bring me the cure!" the middle age man turned to Matt, who was standing nervously by the door. Acting upon the command, Matt ran towards the coffee table and reached for a glass – which was filled with concentrated green liquid – and gave it to the man hastily. "Hold his head for me" again Matt didn't hesitate in following the order given to him. He cupped Dean's head in his hands as the older man pried Dean's mouth open.

But as soon as his mouth was opened, Dean coughed; spitting blood all over Sam's face. Sam didn't bother to wipe the blood away, fearing if he let go off Dean, he would smack the cure away from the man's hand. But then, the sight of blood on Dean's body and its stench lingering on his face made Sam gag.

It was not like he never saw blood before. But it was painful to see it smeared on Dean. It reminded him of the night Dean was dead after he was mauled by the hellhounds. The only thing different was then Dean's body was stiff and lifeless, where else now Dean was very much alive – for now.

"Dad!" Kyle called urgently as he saw his father was stunned by the amount of blood coming out from Dean's mouth. His old man huffed and tried prying Dean's mouth again, this time hoping that Dean's body would cooperate with him.

As soon as Dean's mouth was opened, Mr. Callahan – _Sam thought that was who he is_ – poured the liquid into Dean's digestive trait. When he was sure all the substance was inside Dean's system, he closed the boy's mouth forcefully to make sure Dean was not going to heave everything out. Still some of it was able to escape from the corner of Dean's mouth. Dean, though chocking and gagging was able to swallow the cure in a very displeasing manner.

One minute, two minutes moving on to three and later five minutes, still nothing happened. Dean kept on thrashing about; limbs flailing in the air, head tossed and turned until they could hear the vein in his neck snapped, sweats running down his stiff body, muscles twitching and twisting in series of spasms, breath hitched and caught, and damn, Dean was screaming and wailing all the way – rending the hearts of every one inside the cabin.

"Why hadn't the pain cease?" Sam was annoyed, not to anyone, but for being unable to help lessen Dean's pain.

"It'll take some time" Kyle's father said calmly.

Just as Sam was about to retort, he felt Dean's body went limp under him. He looked down and found Dean had finally ceased struggling. His breath was even now, though still far too shallow and faint. They waited for any sign of another tantrum, but he's done with it. Dean had fallen into a restless slumber, much to Sam's satisfaction. At least he's not in pain anymore. So, they let him go.

"Here Sam" Matt handed Sam a washcloth and Sam stared at him with a confused look. He motioned for Sam's face and realization hit. Sam took the cloth and wiped the bloodstain – _Dean's blood_ – dry. Rolling away from his brother's body, Sam looked at the sturdy old man.

"Is that it?" he asked for confirmation. "He's okay now?"

The old man didn't answer him straight away. Instead he took an empty glass and filled it with water from the pitcher. He drank the water halfway to finishing it and gazed down at Dean. Shaking his head gravely he said "The poison was in him for too long…it had already poisoned his blood"

"What?" Sam couldn't believe his ears.

"It solely depends on his willpower now…the only thing we can do is to keep feeding him the cure every 3 hours and we'll see whether he'd survive" the eldest Callahan explained. He came over to Sam and squeezed his shoulder. "He needs you…now he's sleeping, so he won't feel anything…but when he wakes up, so does the pain"

Sam gulped nervously. He looked down at Dean. So he faced the risk of losing his brother, again. _'Oh God! Dean, oh God!'_.

"All of us should take turn to look after him"

Kyle and Matt nodded, accepting the task appointed to them. On the other hand, Sam didn't need to be told. In fact, he never plans to leave Dean's side at all. Dean needed him and he needed to be by Dean's side.

Sam reached out a hand and touched Dean's too cold cheek. Dean didn't respond to him, not even leaning into the touch. Sam's heart sank. His brother always leant into his touch, but now Dean was too weak to even lean.

'_Dean, please be okay bro'_ Sam pled silently as a lone tear rolled down his stained cheek surreptitiously.

……………………………………….

"Sam?"

Sam raised his eyes lazily towards the door. He was so damn tired. It had been more than an hour since Dean fell asleep and was transferred from the couch into the bedroom. The bedroom didn't have much to be boasted of – 2 single beds, one bedside table and a nightshade - but it was more than enough for Sam. As long as Dean got all the comfort and rest he badly needs.

When they left the woods, it was nearly dawn. Now, it was early in the morning and Sam had been awake for more than 24 hours and he'd been going on with an empty stomach for more than ten hours. So God help him; he was so damn tired, hungry and drained.

"Hi" Sam wasn't really in the mood of being friendly, but he was talking to his brother's savior. At least he could pretend to be one as a token of appreciation.

The middle age man leant against the doorframe, looked at Dean and then his eyes fell on Sam's weary figure. "I believe we had not been properly introduced" he said.

"Sorry…" Sam realized of his rudeness. He hadn't talk to anyone since he became Dean's loyal bedside companion. "I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean"

"I'm Jack, the boys' father" Jack crossed his arms around his chest. He studied Sam in a way that made Sam shuddered. "You're a hunter huh?"

"Yeah…sort of" Sam contemplated on how much details he should reveal.

"You happened to know Kyle when?"

"Back in Stanford, we're roommates" Sam explained. "That was until I moved out with my girlfriend" Sam gulped. He should stop. Those were the only thing any hunter should know about them.

"What's your last name?"

Sam took too long to answer that question. Burkovitch? Wesson? Smith?

"And I don't want those freaky fake last name you had playing in your mind son" Jack insisted with his jaw tight and his face hard.

"Winchester sir…we're Sam and Dean Winchester"

Hearing the name, Jack's face went black. Sam anticipated for that to happen. Not many hunters were in favor of them after they unleashed hell a year ago. If any hunter were to discover about Dean's trip to hell, or Sam's visits to Ruby, he doubted they would let them live for even a nick of time. _'Shit!'_ now Sam waited for Jack to lash out.

"Winchester?" Jack asked for clarification as if he didn't hear it right. "You are John's boys?" he was stepping into the room, giving Sam and Dean a once over.

Sam's eyes widened. "You know our father?"

"Let's just say I owed him that much to provide his sons shelter and food as long as they need" Jack's lips curled into a slight smile. "Sam, you should go get some rest and let me take over"

"No sir, thank you…I'll be just fine" Sam was reluctant. He was not in favor of leaving Dean with a stranger. He had left Dean alone with Kyle before, and then with Jack, he had had enough of leaving Dean alone for one day.

"What makes you think that was a request boy?" Jack turned commanding at instant. There was this thing in his intonation which reminded Sam clearly of his father's nature. The rhetoric question made Sam stood up on his feet automatically, straight and rigid in front of Jack.

"Your brother will need you…so you need to stay alert and aware all the time" Jack reasoned and Sam found himself nodding to every word. "Now go to the kitchen and get yourself something to eat…later get some sleep" and Sam walked out of the room mechanically.

"The boys are in the kitchen in case you're timid kind of guy" Jack called from the room. His voice, though distant, was still firm and stern.

'Timid?' Sam snorted.

He reached the kitchen and saw nobody. Neither Kyle nor Matt was there like Jack had promised. So he helped himself with everything. He went for a glass of water from the faucet and looked around for something to eat. While he was surveying, in his mind, Sam was wondering whether all hunters are going to be the same sort of father, army-liked and commanding, just like his and the Callahans'.

But then, what kind of fathers would John and Jack become if they are not hunters? Dean always looked up to John, saying that Sam didn't know who John really was before the fire. That Sam didn't know John well enough to judge him as being an ignorant and irresponsible father. That was so true, Sam didn't know John before the fire, and Sam didn't even remember how Mary looked like. He met her once back in Kansas when they're exorcising the poltergeist, and that's just about it.

Sam sighed. Dean was luckier than him. Dean had the chance to know both of their parents and sometime Sam couldn't help not to be jealous of him. But then again, most of the time he felt sorry for Dean for remembering and for knowing a much better life than what they had now. Then Dean would always be longing for it. It's just that older brother of his was too hardheaded to admit it.

Another thing playing in his mind right now was how faith worked. They were lucky to meet Kyle, who happened to be Sam's best friend in Stanford and later met his father who happened to be John's acquaintance. Sam hoped everything in their life could be as easy as it was now.

Sam peeked inside the pan – spaghetti. That would do just fine for his starving tummy. After all beggars can't be choosers. He took a bowl and scooped a handful of the spaghetti, enough to tame his grumbling stomach. Sitting down on a stool and propping his elbows on the counter, Sam began eating quietly.

…………………………………………..

The spaghetti tasted so good, Sam almost licked every last drop of the sauce on his spoon. Somebody in the Callahan family was a good cook or perhaps it was just because he was starving. He stopped before he could go beyond the unthinkable.

Sam brought his plate to the sink and began washing. When he was finished, Sam started his way to the living room only to be stopped by a racket in the backyard. Instead of continuing towards the living room, Sam decided to take a look outside.

In the backyard, Matt and Kyle were fighting teeth and nails near the Challenger. The Challenger's doors were wide opened and Kyle was crawling in the backseat. The youngest Callahan was standing by the door, pointing here and there before Kyle smacked his hand away.

"I know what I'm doing!" Kyle rebuked as he looked over his shoulder towards the towering Matt. "Now give me the damn rag"

"You're gonna' fuckin' ruin the leather Kyle!" Matt groaned as he handed the rag to Kyle. Kyle snatched it away and began rubbing on the leathered seat.

Sam moved closer. "What's up guys?"

Matt jumped at the sound of his voice and Sam grinned stupidly. He gave Matt an apologetic wave and headed nearest to Kyle. Kyle was scrubbing on the seat, cleaning bloodstain from Dean's hacking his lungs out on their way there. Sam cringed to see the stained leather. '_That's going to be tough to clean'._

"Just doing some cleaning Sam" Kyle explained without looking up.

"In the backyard?" he remembered the Challenger was parked right in front of the porch before. They could always do the cleaning up there. Why here in the backyard?

"The stain's not coming out" Kyle announced and his voice sounded tired and frustrated.

"Of course you fool! I told you to use lime juice" Matt rolled his eyes.

"What can a freakin' lime juice do?!" his older brother snapped, looking at him with an irate gaze.

Sam shook his head; amused with the unnecessary uproar between the two brothers. He could imagine being in Matt's place and Dean taking up Kyle's.

"_I told you Sam, the friggin' lime juice won't work" Dean was looking at him tiredly. He had spent almost half an hour scrubbing the bloodstain on the driver's seat. Dad came back from a gig last night, gory and bloody all over. So, the amount of dried blood on the leather seat was predictable. _

_It was their job to do the cleaning in the morning and Dean just hated cleaning stubborn bloodstain on the Impala's seat. _

"_Dean, it'll work…trust me" Sam was giving Dean his infamous puppy look and saw his brother pursed his lips. Sam gained victory when Dean hunched his shoulders in defeat. _

"_Okay…let me have it" Dean reached a hand and Sam handed him the spray trigger filled with lime juice that he had painstakingly prepared earlier that morning. He watched as Dean sprayed the juice onto the seat and wiped the stain away. "Hey! It's working!" Dean was amazed as the stain started to fade bit by bit._

"_I told ya'" Sam grinned proudly as he wiggled his brows to Dean. _

_Dean smiled. "You're good Little Miss Samantha" he reached out a hand towards Sam and ruffled the kid's hair playfully. _

"_Dean…" Sam groaned, annoyed with the nickname but later giggled when Dean started tickling his ears. "Dean! Stop it!" and he was lost in his battle as Sam started laughing like there was no tomorrow._

Then, he was only 6 and Dean was 10. Still, Dean was put in charge of taking care of everything; from their laundry, to the cooking, to the cleaning – the house and dad's wound, the Impala, everything an adult of the house should do, Dean took care of them.

"You know Kyle, the lime juice just might work" Sam raised an eyebrow towards Matt. Kyle stopped scrubbing and looked up to Sam. Then he reached out a hand to Matt, asking for the lime juice.

"If this doesn't work…I'm going to kick both your asses" Kyle warned rather seriously. Just like Dean, he hated cleaning job. Used the wrong detergent and the leather would ruin. He sprayed the stained spot and began scrubbing again. Bit by bit the stain faded, leaving the leather clean and stainless. "I'll be damned" Kyle went wide eyed.

"See, I told ya'" Matt spread his arms and heaved his shoulders nonchalantly. "You suck at cleaning dude"

"Well…" Kyle came out of the car. "Thanks Martha Stewart" he threw the rag to Matt's face, much to the latter's annoyance.

"You should be kissing my ass…I save your girlfriend from the bad side of Clorox" Matt grumbled as he tossed the rag away.

"Yeah…yeah" Kyle waved indignantly.

"Lucky you dad didn't know about it"

So that was why they decided to move the Challenger to the backyard to be cleaned up. They were keeping the job as a secret from a higher authority. Sam guessed the Challenger was inherited from their old man to Kyle. Just like the Impala was inherited to Dean by John. Sam shook his head as he snorted amusingly.

"Didn't know about what?" the familiar gruff voice made their heads turned at the same time towards the back door. Jack was standing by the door, holding the knob. "And what's the car doing here?" Jack jutted his chin towards the Challenger, smelling something fishy up their sleeves.

"Nothing sir…just cleaning her up" Kyle flashed Jack a stupid grin.

Jack's brows connected awkwardly but later shook his head. He looked at Sam and said…

"Sam, Dean's awake"

TBC

a/n: I was getting rather slow with the update. Maybe the hot weather is affecting me. But then, here's an update for you. Thanks for reading. Next update will be coming soon. Take care!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer : Dean and Sam were never mine. I don't mind, Mr. Kripke had taken a good care of them anyway.

Chapter 5

"Sam, Dean's awake"

Sam's heart pounded hard in his chest. He didn't know whether he supposed to be thankful or dreadful hearing the news. Jack's words from before, said right after Dean succumbed into his pain-driven oblivion - rang in his ears like a hive of bees.

"_He needs you…now he's sleeping, so he won't feel anything…but when he wakes up, so does the pain"_

Gulping nervously, Sam looked at Jack and the oldest Callahan answered his question before it was even asked with simply shaking his head and hunching his shoulders. The response sent a shiver down Sam's spine. Goosebumps appeared on the back of his neck and he trembled involuntarily.

"Sam?" he felt a comforting hand squeezing his shoulder and Sam jumped. Realizing immediately Dean was left unattended, possibly agonizing all by himself without anyone holding him to the ground and comforting him with soothing gestures and words.

'Dean!' like he was awakened from death, Sam bolted away from the wary hand and ran through the door; almost knocking Jack on his way in. In fact he knocked down a few things on his way to Dean. Making a mental note to apologize later for the mess he'd caused, Sam rammed the door; the only thing separated him from Dean.

Sam almost stumbles down to the floor for the impact but he was fully trained in regaining balance to let that happen. He looked to the bed, fearing the worse but was relieved to see Dean lying quietly on the bed; not kicking and jerking in waves of violent spasms, not puking blood which supposedly kept inside not outside the body, not screaming and wailing out of pain – Dean just lied there quietly with his eyes opened in slits, looking at him.

"Dean?" Sam went to his brother's side, one hand reaching out to touch Dean's hair. But he was heartbroken when Dean jerked away from him before he even touched him. "Dean?" Sam whimpered sadly.

It was not fair. He'd spent hours by Dean's bedside; waiting for him to come around, to have his brother opens his eyes to look at him and offers him a sarcastic waking up greeting. He was beat to hell, not eating, not sleeping, not doing anything – just sat there watching Dean slept, only to have his offering for comfort rejected by Dean.

"What the hell Dean?!" he was so hurt Sam felt like running away and banged his head to the wall. '_I hadn't done enough…I wasn't able to protect you'_.

"I don't think he's really awake Sam" Jack came in, realizing Sam was disappointed in Dean's reaction. Something must be done before frustration and guilt enveloped Sam completely.

"What? You saw him…" Sam stopped as he studied Dean's figure. Registering something he didn't see before.

Dean's eyes were glassy and unfocused. The hazel orbs were moving restlessly in the sockets, as if Dean was focusing on an object moving rapidly in front of him. His face was dark with confusion. Dean's limbs trembled furiously; even under the layers of covers Sam could see the trembles, rocking his brother's feature restlessly. Dean was curled up; knees pulled up to his abdomen, arms hugging his body and one side of his face burrowed into the damp pillow – making him looked younger than he really was. But the eyes were what bothered Sam the most.

The pupils had stopped moving, now focusing intently to one direction, nothing. The look in the eyes was empty and Sam thought he never sees the hazel orbs looked so dazed before. They were almost dead; almost similar to the eyes Sam saw when he cradled Dean's lifeless form in his arms months ago. It was like Dean's soul had leave his body and couldn't find the way back in.

Sam tried reaching out again. This time as slowly as he could restrain himself. Hesitating at first, Sam raked a hand through Dean's sweaty hair. The wetness felt so cold, a contrast to Dean's scorching body. Nothing happened. Dean did nothing, neither jerking away nor leaning into his touch. Dean was really out of it.

"Dean…" Sam called softly, hoping that his voice could somehow pull Dean's soul back into his body. He's not ready to use the Ouija board, not again. The last time he did, he found a painful truth of his brother being chased by a reaper and he could do nothing about it. "Wake up you lazy ass"

Dean showed no signal he'd heard Sam. His body was stiff and his eyes were still as empty.

"Dean…please man, don't do this" Sam pled – if that what it would take to bring Dean back. He looked pathetically at Jack, as if asking for help from the only father figure available. Usually, in a critical situation like this, they would have Bobby providing encouraging words.

Jack didn't say a word, only replying with sympathetic eyes looking at Sam. Knowing a lot about John and words going around their unnatural community on how the young Winchesters looked up to their old man, Jack couldn't find the courage to provide the youngest Winchester an encouragement; fearing it would agitate the protective lion reigned inside the boys whose job was to guard their father's holy throne.

"Dean…wake up dude" Sam almost cried.

Before Dean went to hell, Sam was always the one had his eyes leaking. He cried when their father died, he cried when he had to shoot Madison, he cried the first time they knew John had left a voice message saying to contact Dean if help with the supernatural was needed and he cried when Dean died. Damn! He cried a lot then. But since he learnt the truth about what future Azazel planned for him, since he knew about the apocalypse and how they were smacked right in the middle of it and since he became so indulged in hunting Lilith, Sam had long stopped crying.

Now, he began to cry again, for the sake of his brother who was so alive yet so dead.

Suddenly, as if Sam's prayers were answered from a higher power, Dean stirred. The trembles lessened and the stiffness went lax. Sam's hand remained on Dean's head as he peeked into Dean's hazel eyes. He found droopy eyes gazing up at him, blinking tiredly as seconds passed. The emptiness Sam saw before was replaced with confusion which later turned to relief and lastly to rest.

……………………………………………….

_Fire._

_Pain._

_Screams._

_Pain. _

_And pain again. _

Dean's eyes flipped open and immediately white pain seared throughout his body, making him arch and twist in the darkened space. Then the pain subsided and he felt numb all over. Dean looked around. He saw nothing but pitch black. No Sam, no Impala, no dad, nothing.

'_What happened? What the hell happened?_' he bolted upright and grimaced at the pain piercing his muscles. He clung to his midsection, trying to cushion the aching abdominal muscles. They felt terrible; as if hundreds of knives were stabbing into its flesh. He clenched his jaw and moved forward.

But then, he got nowhere to go. Everywhere were dark empty spaces. Dean sighed with frustration. He was thrown back down the pit, he was sure of it. Dean looked around, half expecting for Alistair to materialize in front of him and tease him like he used to, or for _the_ whip to appear magically in his grasp so that he could continue his job.

No one came and nothing appeared. He was alone. Damn, he couldn't see any lifeline to hold on to. "Sam?" he called desperately.

"Sammy?" darkness was overpowering him. It started by engulfing his feet, snaking its way to his calves. Dean's breath caught. Something was taking him down fast and he had to look for something to hold on to, to drag him away from the darkness.

"Sammy?" Dean was shouting now. There was no echo. His voice disappeared into the infinite space. "Sammy…help me!" he cried, almost pleading when he saw the darkness had reached his waist, twisting and curling around his body in waves of black swirls.

He was overwhelmed by fear of losing himself to the darkness, Dean was not aware of something hovering over his head. When he realized it, he was too scared to see it was a line of light, a lifeline he'd been hoping for; Dean jerked away and the line shied away, leaving him again in total blackness.

"Sammy?" Dean recognized the lifeline anywhere.

When he had nightmares of hell while he's asleep, the line of light always came and he would hold on to it. Then it would drag him away from the fire, from Alistair, everything, back to consciousness. After three or four nightmares only Dean did realize the line of light was Sam's voice, urgently waking him up from his sleep.

"Sammy?!" he called again, hoping desperately Sam won't gives up on him. If Sam did, he would be swallowed by the darkness and when it was done, Dean knew he had no chance of getting back to the real world. It would be slim.

"Help me Sammy!" he wailed while the darkness had already reached his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe. When it reached his throat, he was muted. He could scream for Sam but there was no voice coming out from his mouth. Dean's tears ran down his cheek. Now, he could only see his right hand and his head, no more. Everything else had vanished, blending with the empty and dark space and becoming a part of it.

Just as the darkness swallowed half of his head, Dean heard a voice in the distance. It sounded sad and desperate.

"Dean…?"

'Sam' Dean was unable to speak.

"Wake up you lazy ass!"

'Watch your mouth Sammy'

Then he saw the line of light, reaching down slowly to him. He tried grabbing it but damn, it came down too slow.

"Dean, please man…don't do this" Sam's sounded scared. Dean hated it when Sam was scared. It was his job to protect Sam and it wrenched his heart to see Sam got scared. That was why he talked to dad into letting Sam lived a normal life for as long as they could before exposing him to the real scary world.

Dean tried reaching for the line again, only to see his hand was completely engulfed by the darkness. 'No!' and that was it. He had lost.

'Sorry Sam'

"Dean…wake up dude" Sam's voice was muffled with sobs. Sam cried. It'd been long since Sam last cried. His baby brother must have been scared shit to start crying again. Dean couldn't give up now, he needed to get to Sam and hush him, to tell him everything is going to be okay, he can stop crying.

Dean's baby brother needs him and that was the sole reason for him to push through everything to get to Sam. So Dean pushed himself through the darkness, emerging like a blossoming flower; first his head, then neck and when his hand showed, Dean reached out and grasped the line, his lifeline, Sam.

As if the line had its power, the dark space glowed brightly when Dean's hand touched it and Dean was dragged away from there, just like he was dragged away from his nightmare before. Through practiced habit, Dean cracked his eyes to open in slits and there was Sam.

……………………………………………….

"Sam..my…" Dean slurred.

"Hi Dean" Sam laughed as tears rolled down his cheek. Was he crying or laughing? Maybe both. He was close to losing Dean just now, he couldn't care less if he was crying or laughing.

"You're…crying? P..pansy Sammy" Dean's voice was croaky and hoarse. It was laced with pain, Sam knew. It was not over. Dean was way far from recovering. Sarcasm had always been Dean's MO to hide his suffering, his defense mechanism to preserve his big brother's crown. He was not okay when he's being sarcastic.

"At least I'm not the one curling up like a girl having her menstrual cramp" Sam joked, easing Dean's distress of looking – and being – weak and helpless in front of him. He looked at the others thoughtfully, first at Jack and later at Kyle and Matt who haven't dared to enter the room. The grateful smile never leaves his feature as he returned to Dean.

Jack tugged a corner of his lips, smiling slightly at the satisfaction drawn across Sam's face. He was much amused at the brothers' banter, reminding him to too familiar sights happened around him every day when his sons were around. But he was aware the feel-good moment would soon diminish as he saw Dean's pained face.

"Wiseass" Dean hissed and winced later at the white hot pain beginning to reside behind his eyes. He squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the pain would go away. Dean labored to bring a hand to rub his eyes; only to have it pinned by Sam's cooling hand.

"Let me do it for you" Sam realized Dean's uneasiness as his brother was blinking more rapidly now and there were deep scrunches on Dean's forehead and lines under Dean's eyes that worried him. Sam registered them as signs of Dean having terrible headache.

Sam brought a gentle hand to Dean's face and rubbed his brother's now-closed eyes and then ran a thumb along Dean's brows, stroking them firm enough to chase the pain away and soft enough not to cause any discomfort.

……………………………………….

Darn! Even Sam's gentle touch felt like pricks of needle on his battered body. His muscle felt like jelly, all wobbly and squashy, as if they had been squashed by a baseball bat. But he didn't want to break Sam's heart by saying he was hurting him and the truth was, though it hurt physically, Sam's touch felt emotionally good.

Still, Dean didn't feel right. Deep down in his gut, something was burning fiercely and somewhere in his lungs something was waiting to erupt. He couldn't feel his hands and feet; only a tingling sensation which was damn irritating. And his head, oh God his head felt like squashed orange. Nope! He was not feeling so good.

Letting out an impatient breath Dean mumbled "Sam…I don't feel so good" as a cold shudder ran through his body, shaking him hard. Sam's hand abandoned his body at instant and Dean found himself craving to have it back. As if knowing his inner desire, Sam put back the hand on his forehead, holding it down to the pillow firm and reassuringly; as Dean's muscle started to jerk and twist agonizingly.

"Damn!" Dean muttered through gritted teeth while he squeezed his eyes tightly and turned restlessly on the bed, trying to find a position that would hurt less. He even stopped breathing because breathing hurt like hell.

"Dean, you've got to breathe man…" Sam coaxed him gently. The hand was caressing his forehead; a little bit shaky and cold, but it was there offering comfort and companion. It felt like reassurance, that Sam wasn't going anywhere; he'd be there by Dean's side. "Breathe through it bro" Sam's voice kept him grounded.

Dean found himself following Sam's soothing assurance, making his little brother's voice as a lifeline. That was what Sam had always been to him. A lifeline. If Sam snaps, he would snap too. That was why he made the deal in the first place. Sam was the reason for him to live. He'd lost mom, and dad was dead the night mom died, Sam was the only reason for him to live. He'd die without Sam. Even when he was down the pit, Sam's name never leaves the tip of his lips.

So Dean followed Sam's guide; breathing when Sam asked him to breathe, and bracing himself for the pain when Sam pled him to be strong. But his body decided not to follow Sam. It decided to follow a course of its own.

He pitched a fit; a fit of seizure. His body started rocking, slightly at first and then intensified tenfold in just a minute. Dean arched and twisted miserably on the bed, tossing and turning as the pain snaked through him; starting from his feet, going up to his head in a blow. He gritted his teeth, trying to stifle a moan, but when the pain peaked, he couldn't help but groaned irritably and later screamed in agony.

Dean lost track of the time and his own senses. He couldn't remember when Sam moved, but the minute he realized it, Sam was already lying next to him. Sam's long arms were enveloping his trembling body, bracing him and pinning him down to the bed.

"I'm here Dean…I'm here" he heard Sam whispering to his ears and he could feel Sam's hitched breath on his cheek. Sam was keeping Dean's head down with his own; Sam's forehead nudging the side of his head gently and pushing it down to the pillow. His feet were held down by Sam's gangly ones. He was thankful for that because if it wasn't for Sam, Dean was sure he would be kicking and thrashing about until he hurt himself.

But luck never sided with him. It decided to play tricks on him, making him thinks he was okay when he really was not.

…………………….

Dean started having a lockjaw. And he started chewing his own teeth as his eyes rolled, showing white all over.

"Sam, put something in his mouth!" Jack's voice bobbed in the chaos.

Sam snapped and looked at Dean. Dean's face muscles were twitching and contracting funnily and his eyes went white. Sam's throat went dry at instant. "Sam, now!" and he didn't give it a second thought as Sam sled the side of his hand into Dean's gaping mouth. The second he put it in, Dean clamped his jaw and Sam held back the urge to cry at the pain spiking in his hand.

"Shit!" Jack cursed. When he ordered Sam to put something in Dean's mouth he didn't mean his hand.

At this cue, Matt and Kyle darted towards the bed and grabbed Dean's limbs, helping Sam pinned his brother to bed, while Jack rushed out of the room and came back later with a huge first aid kit. The oldest Callahan rummaged the kit for a muscle relaxant and when he found one, he started preparing for a syringe.

Hoping that this last option would work, Jack sprang to Dean's side and shot the boy's right thigh with the muscle relaxant. Dean didn't even flinch as he got a more excruciating pain to be taken care of. When he was done, Jack tossed the syringe away and helped restraining Dean to the bed.

The muscle relaxant took a couple of minutes before it started working, and when it did, Dean's spasm lessened and his body went limp under their hands. His jaw loosened and Sam took his hand out; now bleeding from Dean's bites, and stared at Dean. Dean was more relaxed and finally was resting. Blood trickled from one of his nostril and Sam's heart stopped.

"Don't worry…it's the heat" Jack assured. No brain damage was in question. But he was affirmative Dean's temperature was slowly reaching the level where brain damage could be triggered. "Got to cool him down though" he suggested.

Sam wiped the blood trickling Dean's cheek with his trembling fingers and stood silently by his side. "I…I need to go for a while" he murmured and went out of the room. His feet brought him instinctively towards the bathroom.

Sam closed the bathroom door behind him and lurched towards the porcelain bowl, emptying his bowel in violent retching. Seeing Dean in so much pain, made him nauseous. Thinking of how Dean's body twisted and turned under his own a moment ago made his stomach churned and whatever little food left in his system rolled out from his mouth in another wave of heaving.

Sam was unsure of how long he'd been puking his guts out, but a soft knock on the bathroom door brought him to his feet. He unlocked the door and stepped outside.

"Sam, are you okay?" Kyle was standing ahead of him, face etched with worries.

"Yeah, just need…" before Sam could even finish his sentence, his consciousness gave way and he stumbled forward; barely kissing the floor before strong arms caught him by the shoulders.

"Oh God Sam!"

"Dean…" he murmured before closing his eyes, succumbing to infinite darkness.

TBC

a/n: Yikes! I got over reacted with this chapter. Tell me whether I should give the boys a break or just continue with the torturing (Bad bad me!). The humid weather really is affecting me, making me lashed the oppressive heat on those boys, uh-oh! Thanks for reading. Hope you like it!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer : Mr. Kripke owned the Winchester boys and I'm just borrowing them for this fic, not for commercial gain of any sort.

a/n: I would like to express a heartfelt thanks for all readers who'd been sticking to this piece till now and thanks a lot more for the wonderful reviews. They really encouraged me to keep going (writing as 2nd language user in a 1st language fandom really freaks me out). Most readers wanted me to keep on torturing the boys and some preferred to let them have some break. I'll try my best to do both here (wink). Enjoy the chapter.

**

* * *

****Chapter 6**

Sam woke with a start. He sprang upright and was hit by a severe vertigo. The world spun crazily around him and he had to hold on to the bed to keep steady. Bed? How the hell he ended up on a bed when he was puking in the bathroom a minute ago?

"Whoa! Easy there dude!"

Sam felt s strong hand grasping his shoulder and carefully guiding him back to lying on the bed. Drained of his reserve, Sam complied with the gentle manhandling. His mind was still a little fuzzy and he squinted hard against the oppressing light. Sighing wearily, he sled an arm across his eyes to shield them from the sickening assault.

"You okay in there?"

'What do you think? I just watched my brother pitching a deadly fit…I'm way from okay' Sam would like to express whatever he had in his mind now, instead he replied croakily "Yeah…"

Sam peeked under his arm and saw Kyle hovering over him, looking at him worriedly. He moaned slightly and brought his arm down; now realizing his hand – _the one Dean bit into_ – was carefully dressed. Guess hunters could be professional MA after they retired later on.

"What happened?" Sam asked. His mind was as numb as how his body felt. The last thing he remembered was puking his guts out in the bathroom and then…well, that much he remembered. The rest went into the drain.

Sam gritted his teeth. There was a steady pounding slowly residing at the back of his eyes. His muscles hurt like they were pricked by millions of needles. His throat was sore and dry. His body was hot and scorching. Damn fever!

"You fainted on me man" Kyle wrung a washcloth dipped in cold water and put it on Sam's forehead; making the gangly man winced at the coldness. "And now…you're running up a fever". 'A high one that is'.

Sam hissed. The coldness of the wet cloth felt like bee stings against his burning skin. Knowing from experience, Sam didn't need to be told that he was running up a high fever. He and Dean had been sick for numbers of time before to know how a high fever would feel like. If nothing was to be done to lower the temperature it would not be long before he starts being delirious.

"I'll be okay" Sam murmured and blinked against the harsh light before deciding to close his lids. 'I have to be okay…Dean needs me'.

"Don't bullshit me dude…we practically dragged you to the bed when you were out then" Kyle rolled his eyes. Maybe they had not meet for years but Sam was just as stubborn as before when he was in Stanford. And being his roommate for 2 years, Kyle was the only person other than Jess to be able to tame Sam's stubbornness.

"And you were out for more than an hour now"

Suddenly realization hit Sam; it hit so bad Sam bolted upright and was punished by a severe headache. He clung to his head and groaned through pursed lips. Again, Kyle's hand slowly pushed him to the bed.

"Sam…" Kyle called out wearily. He retrieved the washcloth and put it back on Sam's forehead; cringing a little at the heat radiating from Sam's body as his hand brushed slightly against Sam's skin.

"Dean…how is he?" Sam was beginning to slur. His voice bobbed up and down as he swallowed dryly. If he was out that long, who was taking care of Dean?

"You take a look for yourself" Kyle said softly as he guided Sam shoulder so he would be lying on his side; facing Dean who was slumped on the next bed. "I thought you'd prefer being close to him"

After what he had seen the last hours, Kyle didn't want to risk having Sam pitching a fit when he found out he was nowhere close to Dean. Jack thought so too. So they decided to move the empty bed closer to Dean's and put Sam next to his brother before Jack and Matt went out to get some supplies for the broken men.

Sam getting sick was predictable. Not eating, not sleeping, not resting…none of them would end up with a happy ending. Adding to that, Sam was mentally exhausted from having to watch his brother's agony. So, a sickness was predictable. That was why he decided to follow Sam to the bathroom before.

Listing to his side, Sam sighed with relief when he saw Dean was steadily breathing on the bed next to him. His brother looked worn and fragile, sleeping like that. Dean looked like he had shed 10 pounds overnight; suddenly so small and thin. 'Dean…' Sam's lips trembled as he reached out and grasped Dean's hand. Dean's hand was cold against his warm one.

"Hey…he's okay" Kyle assured Sam with a gentle squeeze on his arm. "We fed him with the cure and since then he was sleeping, no pain attached" things had gotten a little better with Dean since the previous hour. Maybe the morphine was doing an effective job after all.

The oldest Winchester's fever had not yet broken but it hadn't spike higher either. But it would not be long before Dean gets dehydrated since they weren't able to get any liquid except for the cure into Dean's system for hours now. Everything they gave Dean while Sam was out, even ice chips, rolled out from his stomach in heaves.

So Jack decided they should visit the nearest clinic and 'borrow' some medical supplies; diazepam for Dean's spasm, IV drips, morphine, muscle relaxants – whatever they need to keep the brothers alive. He brought his youngest with him, leaving Kyle to attend the sick.

"I lost him once ya' know" Sam mumbled a little too indistinct. Kyle stooped forward, positioning his ear closer to Sam so he could hear him better.

"Come again?" Kyle asked.

"He died once…went to hell" Sam was fighting sleep.

Kyle was taken aback. He turned to Dean. The oldest Winchester didn't look dead to him; he was not much alive for the time being but he was not at all dead. His gaze returned to Sam, registering the blurry look upon the latter's face. Sam's lids were droopy and his feature was lax.

"I tried to retrieve him…failed though" Sam's voice now becoming distant as consciousness slowly ebbed away. "Can't lose him…" and his lids dropped, albeit lazily. Seconds passed and Sam started snoring softly in congested breathing and stuffy nose.

"You can tell me later" Kyle shook his head in defeat as he pulled up the cover over Sam's frame; tucking it under Sam's chin. He patted Sam's shoulder, hoping it could drag the Winchester away from whatever nightmare he was having in his slumber. He knew well no hunter's dreams were about sweet and candies.

Kyle sagged against the chair with a sigh. Taking care of the sick and wounded was never a fun thing to do and taking care of a sick and wounded stubborn best friend and best friend's older brother was much much worse. He glanced at his watch; it would take a couple of hours more before his father and brother should return with the supplies. He studied Sam; now sleeping restlessly with Dean's hand in his own, and sighed deeply.

"Dean, if you can hear me…you need to snap out of this" Kyle said as he reached out to tuck the edges of Dean's cover under him so that it would trap more heat. "Sam's reaching his limit…he needs you" he whispered and looked at Dean's face. Nothing stirred upon the man's feature. Not even a twitch. Kyle sighed for the umpteenth times.

'It could have been me' Kyle was lost in his monologue; his only mean to entertain himself while keeping the sick.

………………………………

Kyle didn't remember falling asleep but when he opened his eyes, there was Matt; hanging an IV drip on a makeshift hook. The drip went into an IV canula sticking to Dean's hand. He cleared his throat and managed to gain his brother's attention.

"About time you wake up princess" Matt teased him and he was not even looking at his older brother to know he was awake. "You fell asleep while on guard…dad's not gonna' like it" Matt was working fast and swift, yet there was tenderness in his every movement.

"Yeah? You try looking after two sick persons at a time" Kyle growled, not really happy with the fact that Matt had caught him sleeping in the most awkward manner.

"Been there done that" Matt rolled his eyes. Kyle was implying as if he had never taken care of a wounded father and older brother before. In fact, he did the nursing tasks most of the time. "Any of them comes around while we're out?" Matt looked at the brothers.

When he came in before Kyle was sprawled on the chair, snoring to the sky. Dean remained unconscious to the world and Sam was sleeping on his side, his hand clutching Dean's tightly. He basically had to pry Dean's hand away from Sam's to be able to put the IV canula on Dean and to fix the IV drips next to the older Winchester's bed. Prying Dean's hand away from Sam's was proven a tough job. Sam had such an iron grip on his brother causing Dean's hand to be barely bruised from the grip.

"Yeah…both of them did" Kyle tried stifling a yawn. "But none made sense"

"They were both running on a high fever…Sam was reaching 101 and Dean stayed at 104" Matt reported dutifully. He watched as his brother stood up on his feet and started stretching. Sleeping on a chair seemed to disagree with his body as Kyle's joins cracked and snapped when he flexed his muscle. "You're getting old dude"

Kyle frowned; too tired to fight back. "When did you come back?"

"Almost half an hour now" Matt resigned on the chair Kyle had just emptied. He was just as tired as Kyle was. Running around the house playing nurse and rushing to and back from the clinic were exhausting. Watching someone fighting to live on his own bed was not enthralling at all since it made his heart thumped viciously in his ribcage. The last time Dean had the seizures, he almost got a heart attack – well, not the real one but close.

"You look like crap" Kyle gave out an honest comment as he looked down to his little brother; now slumped to the chair like he was a part of it.

"You're not so hot either" Matt retorted and was replied with a snort.

"The two of you should go and have yourself cleaned and fed" the brusque voice coming from the open door made the brothers jumped slightly. Turning their head in sync to the door, Kyle and Matt grinned goofily towards their old man who returned the grins with a shake of his head. If he comes in a little later the boys would have started kicking each others' butt and picking at each others' leg.

"What about them?" Matt asked as he roused from the chair; staggering slightly from fatigue. His brother's firm hand was what keeping him from tumbling forward; he was thankful but still he swatted it away and pretended a groan.

"I'll keep watch" Jack offered and stepped into the room, giving way for his boys to get through the door.

"Are you sure dad?" Kyle asked. He had given his dad enough trouble for one day so he wasn't going to start giving him another one.

"Don't make me say it twice son" Jack replied grumpily. He knew his oldest felt guilty for bringing home a burden but he knew Kyle was not to be blamed for anything. Kyle did nothing wrong bringing home the Winchester boys. If Jack was in his place, he would have done the same thing.

"Yes sir" Kyle nodded in acceptance and started following his brother's trail out of the room. He gave the Winchesters one last look and pulled the door softly behind him, leaving it slightly ajar.

Jack watched his sons walked out of the room in silence then he studied Sam and Dean; both were oblivious in restless slumbers. When he sagged down on the chair Matt and Kyle had been best friends with before, his gaze was still firm on the boys' faces.

Putting both elbows on his knees, Jack rubbed his face tiredly. "John…you raised them up well" he muttered, followed by a weary sigh. "Sad but well" reaching out a hand, Jack carded Dean's hair between his slim fingers.

"Deannie boy" Jack called sadly as he rubbed a thumb on Dean's scorching forehead. The boy leaned into his touch. He couldn't help but smiled at the familiar gesture.

"You grew up well boy" he whispered quietly.

"Dad?" suddenly Dean shifted agitatedly. Jack held his breath; fearing he had disturbed the boy's sleep. He waited for Dean to fall asleep again but the boy showed no sign of returning to sleep. Dean kept on turning and tossing on the bed until he finally cracked his lids open. The look in the eyes however was cloudy and disoriented.

"Dad? Is it really you?" Dean asked through chapped lips; voice hoarse and croaky. He licked his lips and swallowed dryly.

Jack didn't know what to do. He kept quiet until he saw Dean was becoming more and more agitated. So he cleared his throat and imitated John's voice as best as he could and say "Yes son, it's me"

Dean stopped moving and he looked at Jack intently. Jack waited anxiously. Then Dean blinked, and he blinked too.

"You're old dad" Dean grinned stupidly. "Your hair's graying"

Jack shook his head amusedly. Dean was delirious. 'Probably because of the fever' he thought.

"You're not getting younger either boy" sounding like John was not very hard to do when you knew him like forever or when you were a father to a couple of stubborn ass sons.

"Yes sir…guess not" the oldest Winchester chuckled then winced painfully. His face scrunched in what seemed to be a pounding headache. Jack was much reminded of the past seeing the pained look on Dean's face.

"Hey…you okay son?" Jack squeezed Dean's ankle, circling a thumb on it soothingly.

"Yeah…peachy" Dean rubbed his eyes tiredly and Jack's heart sank.

Jack sighed. He knew he had just received a Winchester's motto, to hide the hurt and suck up the pain by saying 'I'm okay' or 'peachy' or 'I'm fine', from the lion's mouth itself. The motto was endorsed by John long ago, since John was a young boy. When they served for Uncle Sam during the war, John upheld the motto, assuring their comrades that he would always be capable of watching their backs. The motto was expected from John but Jack was awed at how he had successfully drilled it into his sons.

"Dad?" Dean called, suddenly sounding melancholic.

Jack braced himself for what was going to come out from the boy's mouth. Looking at how uneasy Dean seemed to be, he anticipated it to be something so private.

"Dad…I'm sorry for everything" Dean murmured through trembling lips. He looked pretty much like a five years old Dean; guilty as charged for causing mess at the dining table while feeding his baby brother.

"It's okay Dean" Jack knew John wouldn't deny Dean's confession. The John he knew would always listen first and act later when it came to attending his children's needs but then it would be the other way around when it involved anything supernatural.

Dean shook his head frantically. "No…no…not okay"

"Hey! Hey! Take it easy Dean" Jack feared too much movement would cause terrible outcome later.

"I failed you…I failed Sammy" Dean whimpered sadly. Tears started brimming at the corner of his eyes. He pulled his knees to his torso and hugged them tightly. "I'm no good to our family"

Jack felt his face hot. "No son…You and Sammy were the best thing that ever happened to me" he knew John would have said that if he had the chance. "I'm proud of you Deannie"

Dean snorted. "Deannie? Dad, you stopped calling me that since ages ago"

"Old habit dies hard son" Jack's lips curled into a tight smile.

"Don't call me that in front of Sammy…I'll be dead from his teasing" Dean giggled as he kept rubbing his droopy eyes. It was obvious he was fighting hard to keep awake. "Don't feel so good dad" his speech was slurring now, drifting along with his consciousness.

"Yeah I know…why don't you sleep and I'll wake you up later for spaghetti-O?" Jack patted Dean's blanketed thigh; lulling him to sleep.

"Your spaghetti-O sucks dad" Dean managed a teasing before he was completely outdone by drowsiness. He let fatigue and pain overtook him and drove him into another unusual slumber.

Jack heaved a deep breath and he pulled the cover – _which was kicked to his feet in Dean's agitated attempt to rouse_ - up Dean's body. Brushing a calloused thumb to Dean's bony cheek, Jack sighed.

He and Dean might just have a normal father and son conversation in other people's eyes. But to them, it was far from normal. Dean was not thinking straight; he was hallucinating, and he didn't see well; which meant his system was still hazy from the invading poison. His speech was slurred and his strength was drowned in fatigue and pain. Not really a good sign.

Deep inside Jack knew the ordeal was not yet over. Dean still had a long way to go. The poison hadn't leave his body completely and still had the potential of wrecking Dean's system in the worst possible way.

"Deannie…"

……………………………………….

"_Uncle Jackie"_

_Staying up late to watch the big game, Jack didn't remember what time he fell asleep on the couch. But he opened his eyes in slits when he felt slight tugs at his arm. The TV was on – no more game, just some silly commercials. Then there's the tug again._

_Jack turned to his side, finding a five years old boy with blond hair staring up at him with bleary eyes. It startled him really. It was way past the boy's bedtime. Jack straightened against the couch and reached out a hand to rub the boy's head, Jack asked "What's up Deannie boy?"_

"_Sammy's not right" the boy – a five years old Winchester - mumbled through trembling lips. _

_Jack's heart sank. The boy barely reached five but he had responsibilities cast upon his shoulders; a responsibility forcefully entrusted on him the night he lost his mother, which he voluntarily accepted. When John sent the boys a week ago Dean stands rigidly by his father's side - green eyes looking up intently at him - he knew he'd have to deal with an over protective little big brother. A protective little brother he'd grown up to be from a playful and carefree Deannie Jack used to know. It tortured Jack to realize now Dean see him as a stranger - guess it would happen after the horrible bash he had to endure upon his mother's death - when all the time when Mary was alive, he was Dean's second father. _

_Knowing the Winchester's ego, Jack tried not to be dominant. He let Dean took the liberty in taking care of baby Sammy. He and Jenny let Dean decided what food they should feed baby Sammy with, how baby Sammy should be dressed up and what time baby Sammy should be put to bed. They let Dean be in charge of his baby Sammy. They even let them sleep together in the nursery._

_And after a week, Dean started to take them as family again – no more strangers. He even treated baby Kyle as his own; playing with the babies and helping Jenny attending to them, whenever help was necessary Dean would always be there. _

"_What's wrong with him Deannie?" Deannie had always been what he called the boy since the day he was born. When he was one, Dean didn't seem to like the nick but he had his revenge by calling him Uncle Jackie. Both of them survived the nicks though cringing and flinching were here and there when they called each others' names. _

"_He cry and cry…don't stops" Dean started shedding tears, sobbing harshly. Jack gathered the boy in his arms and carried him upstairs; darting into the nursery and finding baby Sammy breathless from wailing out loud. _

_Seeing his baby brother had gotten worse, Dean practically sprang away from Jack's arms and dashed to Sammy's crib. He climbed into the crib and cradled his baby brother awkwardly; hushing and patting him in useless effort to put the baby back to sleep. _

"_I heard the baby's cry…what happened?" Jenny appeared at the door and was dressed in a nightgown; face hazy from sleepiness. She went into the nursery, tugging at the overcoat she managed to slip into before going out from the room._

"_Not sure…Dean woke me up" Jack explained as he rushed to the crib. Dean was holding the wailing baby Sammy tightly on his lap. He reached a hand and when he saw Dean was willing for it, he picked Sammy up in his arms and did a round up. "I think he had diaper rash" Jack announced after he checked everything on the baby._

_Jenny tied her hair in a ponytail as she took baby Sammy from Jack and put him on the changing counter. She started cleaning him, putting on some ointment and dressed the baby with a new diaper while Jack attempted to take Dean out from the crib._

"_Can I sleeps wif Sammy?" Dean asked, flashing Jack a drenched puppy eyes – one Jack and Jenny couldn't resist falling into – and puckered his puny lips. "Pweasee?" _

_Jack sighed and smiled contently. "Yeah…okay, you'll be his guardian angel kay?" _

"_No angels…mommy said angels watched us, but they don't watches mommy…no angels" Dean shook his head frantically; anger laced his tone. Jack looked at Jenny and they exchanged glances. It was sad. At this young age, Dean had learnt to care for himself and baby Sammy; not believing in a higher power to look over for them. _

"_Okay Dean, here you go" Jenny placed baby Sammy into the crib. The baby had stopped crying and now was sleeping with slight sobs etched in his breath. She patted the baby once and brushed her hand through Dean's unruly bangs. "Then, you'll be his bodyguard okay?" Jenny hushed him quietly._

"_Okay" Dean reclined to the bed, curling up close to baby Sammy. Giving his brother one last look and heaved a relieved breath, Dean closed his eyes tiredly. In less than a minute, Jenny and Jack heard soft snores emitting from the boy. _

"_A little too protective don't you think?" Jack was already standing by the door, holding it for Jenny. He watched as Jenny presented each of the boys a tender kiss on the forehead. _

_"Nah!" Jenny shook her head as she walked gracefully towards Jack. "He's going to grow up being the best big brother ever" she announced before sliding a slim arm around her husband's back and they closed the nursery door, giving the boys one last look._

"_Yeah…" Jack couldn't agree more._

……………………………………….

Jack sighed, studying Dean's sleeping figure in wretched feelings. When he watched Dean grows up years back, Jack never thought Dean would grow up being a hunter too. By then, he saw the boy only as innocent little boy - as carefree and as playful as any normal kids would be. It hurt him so much to see what Dean have become after so many years.

Then Jack glanced at Sam. When he last held him, Sam was just a baby. Now look at how he had grown. The way the boys were sleeping now; facing each other, reminding him of the night little Dean had woke him up from his slumber because his baby brother cried from a nasty diaper rash. Then, Dean was bigger than Sammy and now, he looked so small compared to his brother. "Get well now Deannie boy"

"Please get well…for Sammy"

…………………………………………

Sam was floating.

He was floating high and high.

And he began to get scared of the height and started panicking.

He started kicking and punching. Nothing happened. Sam was still floating in the air; going up and up. Looking down, he saw nothing. There was nothing around him, nothing that could help him gets down and nothing that he could grab to hold on to.

"No!" he cried sadly. He needed to get back to Dean. He had to be by Dean's side. He shouldn't be anywhere but Dean's side. "Dean…" he whimpered and Sam was much reminded of himself when he was just three years old; when he fell on the tarmac and scrapped his knee while he was running to get to Dean.

Seeing Sam cried with a bloody knee, Dean turned around and came to him running breathlessly. Dean would pick him up into his arms and carried him home; all the while soothing Sam with encouraging words or hushing him with cooing sounds.

But now there was no Dean to pick him up, to tell him encouraging words or to soothe him with cooing sounds that Sam always thought were funny. Dean was dying and Sam was alone.

"Dean…" he whimpered sadly. If this was a dream, he wanted to wake up badly. And if he died in his sleep and this was heaven, he was not going in until he knew Dean is coming in with him. And if this was hell, he swore to God he would find a way to climb his way back to Dean.

"Dean!" he called and wondered whether it was the same way Dean had called his name when his big brother was down the pit before. "Dean!"

"Sammy…?" Sam heard a voice in the distant and immediately recognized it was Dean's.

"Dean?"

"Sammy...open your eyes bro" the voice was soft and weak. Still, Sam found he had stopped floating and now was slowly descending to the ground. "Yeah…that's it Sammy" Dean's voice was carefully guiding him to the ground. And when his feet touched the ground, Sam was pulled away from the space and was taken into a familiar sight. It was the room he'd been staying in to keep Dean company.

Sam flicked his lids open and saw Dean smiling at him from the other bed.

"Hey Sammy…"

TBC

* * *

a/n: Every updates tend to be longer now. Will it be okay? Or do you prefer the chapters to be shorter? I just couldn't stop when I started writing on the boys, geez! So, not much of tortures in this chapter, just limp Dean and Sam. I'm giving them a short break, then I'll start torturing them again. I'm evil! Hope you enjoyed reading. Next update's coming soon (Already started with chap 7, oh my).


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: The Winchesters and Bobby Singer belonged to Mr. Kripke. No beneficial gain was intended when I decided to borrow them from him.

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 7**

_Sam flicked his lids open and saw Dean smiling at him from the other bed._

"_Hey Sammy…" _

"Dean…?" Sam squinted hard to alleviate the pain hammering behind his eyes. But it didn't take too long; he needed to see Dean badly. He needed to make sure it was really Dean he saw not another figment of his distressed imagination. So he forced his lids open and…damn it, his eyeballs hurt so bad he felt like crying.

"You sleep like a baby dude"

Dean's voice was still too croaky and dry to Sam's liking and his color showed only a slight tinge of pink for anyone to tell whether he had started recovering or just too hardheaded to comply with his sickness.

"Look who's talking" Sam slurred. There was a big lump in his throat, making it hard for him to speak. "You okay?"

"I'm hot" and Sam couldn't tell whether it was literally true or just another sign of Dean's defense mechanism kicking in. "You however look like squashed orange" Dean licked his lips in a desperate need to wet his throat.

"You're gross"

"I'm starving"

And Sam couldn't help but held back a laugh and the desire to jump onto his brother. He wanted to hug him tight. He needed a physical contact badly he was practically reaching out a hand for Dean. But Sam knew better about Dean's no-chick-flick-moment thing so he retrieved his hand which hadn't really leaved his bed. Propping on his arms, Sam tried to get up; to get to Dean's side.

"What are you doin'?"

Dean's eyes widened seeing Sam's strenuous attempt to get up. He was becoming agitated himself. When he first woke up minutes ago and found Sam sleeping on the bed next to his; flushing with fever, soaking from sweat and jerking from nightmares, Dean was worried. So he started calling Sam's name, uncaring of his hoarse voice and sore throat. Now, he was more worried seeing Sam trying to leave his bed while his body seemed to disagree with the effort. "Sit tight Sammy!"

"Nn-need..to..get up" Sam's breath snagged and he was breaking sweat as he tried in vain to haul himself away from bed. Exploiting all the little strength he had left in his feeble body, Sam supported his gangly frame on one arm while he used the other to push the cover away.

"What do you need to get up for?"

Dean's question would sound irritated if his voice didn't betray him badly. He could see Sam's arm; the one propping his body, was shivering violently from the unnecessary weight it had to support. Dean wanted to reach for Sam; he needed to rouse and push Sam back to the bed but his body was numb from pain and morphine. His muscles had long turned to jelly, and he had no energy left in his body to even move a finger. And his head pounded as if there was a mini heavy metal drummer banging on it during his solo concert. Dean bit his lower lip, watching helplessly as Sam strived to leave the bed.

"Gotta…to look after…you" Sam's words were fading now and then, Dean could barely understand them anymore.

Dean's vision was blurry and his hearing buzzed from the lingering pain, but he didn't need to have clear vision and hearing to know Sam was losing himself to the sickness. He'd been his brother's keeper too long to identify the pain and the oblivion embedding Sam's slur. His big brother instinct told him Sam was agonizing and hurting; the same instinct that enabled him to differentiate each of baby Sammy's cries as the cry for food, cry for the need of a diaper change or simply a cry to gain his brother's attention. He knew a sick Sammy like the back of his hand though these days he thought he barely knew Sam anymore.

Dean's heart thumped rapidly in his chest when he saw Sam stumbled once as he tried moving one foot out of the bed. Dean could hear Sam panting for the effort. Once his breath caught, making Sam gasped for air; Dean cringed. Being in hell was torturing, but it tortured a lot more to know your brother was goddamn sick and you couldn't do anything to help.

"Sammy…stop it man" Dean called, almost pleading for his brother to stop. If only he had the strength, then he would scram to Sammy's side and tackle him back to bed. He knew pleading didn't work too well with Winchesters; especially not when you were the youngest and had your hardhead inherited from both hardheaded parents.

"Sammyy…!!" again Dean's voice betrayed him. He gave all his heart in that cry; hoping someone would hear him – that they would come and stop Sam from doing whatever he was doing, but what he thought a loud cry turned to be only a soft whimpering sound, audible only to him. Blood rushed harshly in his body; Dean was feeling hot all over.

Dean's heart skipped a beat when he saw Sam's supporting arm gave way, making Sam lost his balance and stumbled forward with his eyes rolling to the back of his skull. His little brother fell hard to the floor; face planted on the wooden planks.

"Sammy?" Dean called desperately. 'Come on Sammy'. Dean needed to hear something – Sam's voice saying 'I'm good' or 'I purposely fell down', then he would feel better. But Sam didn't even stir, much else to reply with a defensive tone. Sammy was totally out and Dean got more and more restless for being unable to see Sam. All he could see was one of Sam's lanky leg hanging limply on the side of the bed.

'Damn Sammy!' Dean hissed. His heart beat faster and his blood steamed. Adrenaline started flowing in his system and Dean's big brother instinct began kicking in. Where he got all the strength suddenly would be the question he'd later ponder, but now Dean needed to check on Sam. He moved his limbs, although hardly, and pushed himself up on his elbows. He gritted his teeth to suppress an involuntary groan from the pain piercing his abdomen. Hurling the cover away from his sweaty body and pulling the IV canula from his hand, Dean moved his legs out of the bed and basically lurched himself towards Sam's motionless form; uncaring about the blood dripping from the incision made by the canula.

Dean threw his body on Sam's back and reached frantically for Sam's neck to check for his pulse. He didn't know what Sam was coming down with; so he feared for the worst. When he felt the pulsating throbs of Sam's steady pulses, he sighed with relief. Dean buried his face into the crook of Sam's neck mumbling "You scared me shit bro" and cringed at the heat radiating from Sam's skin. 'So, he came down with a high fever' Dean grabbed Sam's wrist and rubbed it with his thumb in circling motions; a gesture to tell Sam he's not alone. When he had no more energy to continue the circling motion, he curled his fingers around Sam's wrist and waited.

…………………………………………………

Moments passed and Dean felt Sam stirred restlessly under him. Dean rolled over and listed to his side. Now both of them were a heap of mass on the floor. He cushioned his cheek with his arm and watched as Sam slowly came around; coughing and wheezing as he did. His brother turned to his side and Dean snorted amusedly seeing the saliva trickling from Sam's mouth.

"You're drooling all over Sammy" Dean was too tired to move, now that his adrenaline rush was gone. Exhaustion was overtaking him in cruel rapid waves.

"Dean?" Sam's eyes opened in slits, and he blinked incoherently at Dean. "What are you doing down?" he asked in between hacking coughs. Sam ran a weary hand over his face; scrubbing away the mess and drowsiness. His throat was raw and sore, and his nose was stuffy. His fuzzy mind was slowly clearing and he had just realized both he and Dean were lying on the floor; one of Dean's arms curled around him and the other was grasping his wrist tight.

"I'm saving you" Dean wriggled his brows weakly. Sweats were dripping off his bushy brows Dean had to blink a couple of times to clear his vision. His hands were numb from fatigue and he couldn't find the energy to move them around.

"So much of a rescue" Sam sniggered; rolling his eyes after he made a thorough observation on how they were positioned on the wooden floor. "Dude?! Are you hugging me?" even Sam was too tired to move. Instead of getting up, Sam opted to lie down on his stomach; letting his cold body being warmed by Dean's fevered one.

"Nope! I was steadying you" Dean replied nonchalantly. "You're shaking like a granny on a stick" he would always find a way to bat Sam's mockery off. Most of the time sarcasm was just a mean for him to hide his brotherly affection towards Sam while keeping his dignity as the stoic and heroic big brother.

"Yeah…right" Sam realized half of the shaking on his body was contributed by Dean's trembling figure. Some of them, yes, were his. But most of the shaking was Dean's. He was not going to push it. At least he gained what he toiled – fell down – for; physical contact with his jerk big brother.

Dean chuckled, much to Sam's annoyance. When Dean chuckled meant he got something naughty playing around in his corrupted mind. As much as he loathed Dean's stoic attitude – _because it made him felt helpless_ - Sam was not in favor of his brother's definition of entertainment either. Fun to Dean was defined as getting laid, vanquishing evil, getting boozed in the best bar in town, indulging in pies, etc. But mostly fun to Dean meant making fun of Sam, or Sam making an idiot out of himself, or Sam falling into a lame trick, or Sam getting his butt kicked by demonic bitches; mostly Sam was Dean's definition of entertainment.

"What?" Sam's irate inquiry sounded like a whine instead.

"Granny Samantha" Dean smirked and laughed heartily. "It suits you perfectly…like Granny Betty or granny Annie"

"Try granny Deanna" Sam huffed; suppressing his own urge to laugh. He and Dean had a lot of good times before but after Dean's return from hell, their time were spent with picking up unnecessary teeth and nails fights, blaming each others' asses, and worrying about the fate of the world burdened on their shoulders rather than celebrating Dean coming back from the pit. However now Sam was amazed at how a simple word could trigger so much joy.

When his mocking gained no response, Sam studied Dean's face and he immediately recognized the look of pain drawn on his brother's feature. Dean was too hot to the touch yet he was trembling hard, his teeth chattered and his chin quivered. Flexing his wrist – _the one Dean was holding like a lifeline_ -with years of trained flexibility, Sam took Dean's wrist in his hand and felt for the pulse. The pulses were rapid and disordered; pulsating in weird rhythm. Dean was not sweating anymore; an indication that he was already dehydrated.

"Dean, you're goddamn hot!" Sam declared and he felt his own heartbeat intensified tenfold.

"Thanks…you're so sweet" Dean's lips curled slightly.

"No moron! You're burning up!"

"Yeah…nothing new there" Dean raised his brows indignantly as if Sam was worrying for nothing. There was no change in his tone. It was still flat and calm. "Take it easy Sammy boy"

"Easy my ass" Sam was irritated by Dean's calmness.

Sam could see the familiar wall coming down around Dean. Dean was practicing his defense mechanism number 104 from his '_Big Brother Dean'_ manual; act cool when you're burning up though you're so hot you wanted to tear your skin apart. But Sam had his own manual – _Sam's Survival Guide_ - to counter attack Dean's mechanism; attacking device number 21 – ignore your brother's cool act and start fussing over him right away. So, Sam started fussing over Dean by first pushing himself up in strenuous effort. His intention was to haul Dean back to bed, pull a cover over him, place a wet cloth on his forehead and get him to drink something.

However, the forces of gravity somehow were able to keep him from getting up. That was new. Usually he had no problem to get up – even after he was tossed a couple of times to the wall, or trees, or gravestones. Something burned in his lungs and the heat was running up his throat like larva erupting from a furious volcano. Sam ended coughing violently and he doubled over; clutching to his aching chest as he hacked his lungs out.

"I told you to take it easy Sammy" Dean groaned.

Dean got a big hardheaded ass for a little brother and he got himself to be blamed. Basically, he was Sam's caretaker. But maybe it was dad's fault. Yeah! Sammy got it from dad, definitely. Dealing with Sam's persistence had always been hard work and always Dean felt like strangling Sam or tying him up to the bed while he was sleeping for revenge. This was one of the moments he wished he could wrestle Sam and tie him up to the bedpost so he would keep quiet and let Dean had some peace for the day. "Now I need to save your sorry ass again"

Dean grunted tiredly before he pushed himself up – falling down a couple of times – and dragged his body towards Sam. Again he wondered where he got all the energy all of a sudden, when a little while ago he couldn't even move a finger. Thank God for giving big brothers extraordinary powers during less ordinary moments in dealing with super extraordinary pain-in-the-ass little brothers.

"Come on Sammy, work with me"

Dean resisted the urge to throw up as he put his hands under Sam's arms, pulled his overly big little brother up and leant Sam's back against his heaving chest. Sam was coughing and when he tried stifling it, he choked on his own saliva. Dean gagged and pursed his lips to avoid puking. Moving made him nauseous and Sam's condition didn't help much in easing the nausea. Sam's body pounded hard on Dean's chest when it rocked from coughing and God knew how it hurt Dean in the inside; literally and figuratively. It hurt him physically and it hurt even more to see Sam's suffering.

"Owh Sammy! You need to lay off the Lucky Charms"

Dean dragged both himself and Sam towards the wall. The journey seemed to be miles away as the weight he was carrying – _he and Sam_ - got heavier each time he moved. When his bruised back met the solid form of the wall, Dean heaved a relieved breath. He leant heavily against it and propped Sam's back to his chest, tucked Sam's head under his chin and wrapped Sam's rocking body in his arms; securing his little brother in protective embrace – one thing he wouldn't even dream of giving if Sam was up and awake.

How long had it been since he last gave Sam a hug? He had hugged Sam when he returned from the dead but it felt awkward and he knew Sam felt it too. Dean was different and Sam was never the same anymore. But he knew the first time he had given Sam a hug so protective was the night their mother got stuck to the ceiling and was burnt with fire originated genuinely from hell.

When he was done, Dean was beat. To make it even worse, the pain in his stomach began to spike in unbelievable pace. He clenched his jaw and grinded his teeth in frantic attempt to contain the hurting. The throbbing at the back of his skull; which was a steady drumming during the last hour, intensified into heavy pounding. He buried his face on Sam's shaggy hair and moaned deeply. Dean hugged Sam tighter; using his brother as a medium to channel his pain.

…………………………………………

_Dean moaned silently in his sleepless slumber. The pain in his tummy was so intense he wanted to cry badly. But he feared of waking Sammy from his sleep. He didn't want to wake Sam up and let his baby brother sees him like this; weak, limp and sick. Thus, Dean buried his face to the pillow and screamed into it; hoping the fluffiness of the pillow would muffle his agonizing cry._

_It had been another normal days for the young Winchester – their time spent at some crappy old motel, Dean and Sam were alone to take care of each other when dad left for a hunt – except tonight Dean had a severe case of food poisoning from eating Sam's leftover from dinner two nights before. They ran out of ration and Dean had to cut off his share so Sam wouldn't end up starving for the night. Since then, he'd been consuming Sam's leftover behind his brother's back. _

_He had been puking his guts out for the last four hours and when he got nothing left in his tummy, he practically vomited dry air and saliva. Geez! His tummy hurt so much Dean wished dad was here. Dean curled into himself and whimpered. Coldness seeped into his muscles, making them stiff and sore. _

_Suddenly Dean felt a slight crease on his bedside and he cringed at the abrupt change of grounding level. He bit his lower lip to hold back the urge to moan. Too tired to turn onto his side, Dean waited for the familiar sense of comfort to emerge._

"_Dean?" _

"_Sam-my" Dean slurred wearily. The scream he thought muffled by the pillow must have escaped and woke Sammy from his slumber. Damn motel for worn pillow! _

"_What 'appned?" Sam asked, worries etched in his voice as he laid a cooling hand on his brother's trembling shoulder. _

"_Nothing Sammy…go back to sleep" Dean couldn't afford making Sammy worries. Sammy was too small to even help let alone worrying about him. It was Dean's job to be worried, not Sam's. _

"_Dean…you sick" Sam announced and Dean would have rolled his eyes if he was not too sick. _

"_I'm okay Sammy…" Dean winced as he heard himself whined. As he contemplated on turning towards Sammy, Dean's bedside creased and he knew Sam had left his bedside; probably convinced by Dean's acting tough and he decided it was okay to leave Dean alone and went back to bed. Dean closed his eyes but cracked them open again when he sensed someone staring at him straight on his face. He jumped at seeing Sammy's face hovering over his; puppy eyes looking at him blearily. _

"_Dean…you look blue" Sammy reached out his tiny hand and cupped Dean's cheek in his tiny palm. Dean found much desired comfort in that touch and he couldn't help not to lean into it. Amazingly, the warmth of the touch had lessened the pain in his abdomen. "You colded Dean" Sammy was playing doctor as he put a hand on Dean's forehead as if checking for the temperature. Maybe he had seen dad doing it too many times before._

"_It's the weather Sammy" Dean tried giving excuses._

_Sammy puckered his lips and ignored Dean completely as he climbed onto Dean's bed and positioned himself in the curve between Dean's torso and knees. He lifted Dean's arm and put it around his small frame and he wrapped his little one around Dean. Snuggling deeper into his brother's middle section, Sam buried his face to Dean's torso._

"_You feeled warm now?" Sam asked; voice muffled by Dean's shirt._

_Dean pulled Sam closer to his torso; tightening his arm around Sam and buried his face onto his little brother's unkempt hair. "Yeah…" Dean replied softly as he secretly planted a kiss on Sam's head. Sam's gesture of love had blissfully healed Dean's excruciating pain and Dean was thankful for that. Somehow Sam had become his mean to channel the pain to something else. Sam was really a gift from God._

"_Thanks Sammy" Dean muttered. _

_Dean and Sam cuddled in together until they fell asleep in each others' embrace and didn't wake up when dad came home early at dawn; smiling as he stood at the door, watching them while they were sleeping. _

………………………………………

Sam opened his eyes when he felt something – _or someone_ – was holding him a little too tight; making it difficult for him to pull air into his lungs. He chased the drowsiness away by blinking and shaking his head; only to find it hard to move his head because something heavy was pinning it down. Looking around, Sam came to realize he was leaning against Dean and it was Dean's head which kept his immobile. Dean's arms were hugging his chest tight; holding him tensely in a shaky but firm embrace. Behind him, Dean's chest was heaving up and down rapidly and God he could feel Dean's heart beating ferociously against his back.

"Dean? Were you kissing me?" Sam grinned stupidly. The embrace felt so good by the way. It had been long since Dean's embrace felt so good on him. Last time they hugged, Sam was contemplating whether it was really his brother he was hugging in his arms or just another demon taking in Dean's form. Dean was taking too long to return Sam a gruff reply and Sam's heart ticked.

"Dean?" Sam called as he tried to move his head so that he could take a look at Dean. But Dean's head was keeping his down firmly that he couldn't budge a muscle. When he tried to turn around, Dean's arms were keeping him still. Sam got restless. Something was definitely wrong with Dean and he didn't know what. "Dean?" Sam tried prying Dean's arm from his body but the hold was so tight, Sam couldn't even lift a finger from Dean's hand.

"Damn! Dean!" more desperate than ever, Sam struggled to slide away from Dean's embrace and found his attempt was useless. Dean had the iron grip on him; he used to get it upon waking up from the deathbed after Cold Oak. Sam was petrified when he heard Dean moaning silently into his hair. He could feel Dean's hot breath upon his scalp; making him sweats. Dean was going into another series of spasm; the third time in less than 24 hours. How much more could Dean take before he collapses? Sam didn't dare thinking about the possibilities.

"Let me go Dean!" Sam was struggling to get free from his brother's embrace; one thing he wouldn't do if Dean was not pitching a fit of seizure behind him. "Dean!!" Sam shouted irately when he felt Dean's muscles twitched and twisted under his skin. His brother's body arched violently behind him and the weight at the back of his head increased. Sam's tears rolled down his fever flushed cheek. Dean was agonizing and he was using Sam to keep him grounded. "Dean…" Sam whimpered as he felt Dean's arms around him stiffened; rocking both of them at the same time.

Sam felt helpless. He couldn't do anything. It was as if Dean had planned it beforehand; keep Sammy from seeing him writhed in pain. The way Dean was holding him Sam thought his brother was protecting him from the horrible sight of Dean fighting death. Dean knew Sam couldn't take it anymore watching him agonizing from the pain. Dean had figured it out; that Sam came down with a fever because he was reaching his limit, the end of the rope. Dean was his big brother after all. Big brothers know things that little brothers don't. Big brothers had sixth sense that little brothers were in awed with. Big brothers like Dean were the biggest dumbass ever for keeping the hurts to themselves and not sharing it with the little brothers like Sam.

Sam prayed for help. He hadn't done this in a long time but he was praying to God to help Dean; to lessen his pain. He was praying hard Sam had his eyes brimmed with tears. As if his prayers were answered, he felt Dean eased behind him. The muscle twitching and turning was gone, Dean's arms went limp around him and Dean's head lolled precariously onto the crook of his neck. "Dean?"

"Sam?"

Out of the blue, the door sprang open. Jack darted into the room, followed closely by Kyle and Matt. They were moving too close they almost tripped onto one another. The Callahans stood dumbfounded ahead of the Winchesters, now a heap of mass on the floor between the two beds.

"Oh God Sam!"

Jack was the first to be grounded again. He rushed to the boys' side and checked for their pulses; cursing himself for daring to leave the boys alone to release himself. Jack was on guard while his boys were getting themselves cleaned and fed. Seeing the Winchesters were oblivious in their slumber, he thought it'd be okay to leave them alone for a while; just to answer nature's call. And that was proven a stupid thing to do.

When he left them twenty minutes ago, both boys were sleeping on their beds, facing each other. Now, both of them were cuddling in each others' embrace; on the floor instead of on the beds. Sam was leaning against Dean who now was bleeding from the nose and shaking terribly in a restless comatose. The way the boys were positioned made Jack wondered whether he had really left them for twenty minutes or more. What was more troubling was the fact that neither of them heard the commotion going around in the room between the two brothers. It was Sam's holler of Dean's name that made them come running there. 'Damn!'. Maybe they were getting too comfortable with the boys condition that their mind was playing trick on them; muffling the boys' call for help or suffering from being heard. Jack sighed as he checked on Dean. It look like another series of spasm had set in while he was gone and by the look of fear in Sam's eyes, it was possible Dean came down with it while he was hugging Sam.

Jack looked at Kyle and Matt who were stunned as if their soul had left their bodies. Shaking his head wearily, Jack cleared his throat.

"Boys…help needed over here!" Jack turned commanding, making Kyle and Matt appeared a little too sudden beside him. Kyle and Matt didn't need to be told of what to do when they mechanically pried Sam away from Dean's protective embrace and hauled him to his feet. Matt helped Sam to his bed while Kyle assisted his father in carrying Dean to his.

After both of the Winchesters were back on their beds; Dean unconscious and Sam was everything but better, the Callahans stood ahead of them, watching in awe at the bond keeping the brothers together. Again, they watched as Sam quietly reached for his brother's hand and took it into his own, grasping to it tightly before he was drowned completely with fatigue.

Matt's breath caught as he witnessed the most horrible sight he ever saw; a bond of brotherhood so strong threatened by death. He looked at Dean, replacing the oldest Winchester with his older brother and cringed at the thought crossing his mind. Without warning, Matt dashed out of the room; leaving Kyle and Jack contemplating on what to do next.

Kyle watched his brother went out with a knowing look. Matt had always been the one with the most sensitive heart. Then he turned to Jack. His old man was punching on the keypad of his cell phone.

"Dad?" Kyle required further information.

"I'm calling for backup" Jack explained as he waited for the call to be picked up. The caller tone rang twice before it was picked up from the other end of the line. A gruff hello greeted him.

"Bobby?"

TBC

* * *

a/n: I decided to throw in Bobby, just to give a boost to the boys and the Callahans. Still it would be the Callahans taking all the responsibilities of caring for our boys. Thanks for reading this chapter and if you have the time, please kindly leave a review. Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed reading it cos' I know I was having fun writing this chapter. Evil me!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchester boys, the Impala, and their Uncle Bobby. Maybe someday…nah! Don't think so.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"_Bobby?"_

Bobby was on the road and was on his way to check on the boys in Ohio when his phone rang. There was still 10 hours journey ahead of him on the sunken and forgotten road and the silence had almost gets on his nerve. Driving alone had never been scarier than this; not when he hadn't got any call from his boys regarding their latest gig which he had appointed them to take care of.

Sam had rang him two days ago asking if he could find them a case because Dean started to get mad living in the motel doing nothing for almost a week. The urgency in Sam's voice was hilarious at first. It seemed like he had had enough of his brother reaching the verge of insanity. Bobby understood the youngest Winchester's feeling so truly he felt sorry for him. But the hesitance embedded in Sam's speech caused him worries. The same time he said they badly need a hunt Sam was reluctant to go for it. Bobby knew right away something was wrong and his instinct was proven true when Sam revealed Dean had come down with a high fever and was yet to recover.

Knowing the oldest Winchester like the back of his hand, Bobby could imagine the torture Sam had to endure while taking care of his older brother. Something must have happened to make the younger brother snapped. If it was Bobby, he wouldn't be able to manage a sick Dean for one day. Even their old man had tough times dealing with sick Dean, though when he was merely a child. Sometime he and John sat down together and wondered how Dean got so much energy when he was sick with something. They almost contemplated on knocking him out senseless. It was easier to take care of Dean when he was out cold rather than when he was conscious, albeit deliriously. So when Sam said Dean was sick for two days, Bobby was in awe of him. If anyone could deal with a sick Dean for two days without snapping and getting crazy himself, it was Sam.

But damn! Bobby was worried. When Sam called him, he was researching on his own hunt and didn't actually provide the boys with details they might need to hunt the Pukwudgies. He hoped Sam would continue on researching before they actually went out hunting the damn thing. After he was done with the Banshee, Bobby took the time to research on the Pukwudgies and my! He was so screwed. He had left out the poison and the cure part. But he put the worries aside, praying hardly Sam wouldn't leave the part unattended. Sam had always been his apprentice in researching, thus he hoped highly Sam wouldn't be as reckless as he had been.

Less that he knew his hope would go into the drain in matter of seconds.

When his phone rang for the first time in 2 days after the boys last contacted him, Bobby was way beyond relieved. He didn't even bother looking at the caller's number because he was so damn sure it would be one of the boys calling to inform him that their job was a job well done. Again he was wrong for it was not the boys' voice at the other end of the line.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah?" Bobby's voice was raw from disappointment.

"Bobby, this is Jack"

"Jack?!" Bobby's heart skipped a beat and he felt violent blood rush rushing to his head. "Jack Callahan?"

"Bull's eye! How are you doing old pal?"

"Good, never better" as much as he was disappointed, Bobby was enthralled knowing Jack was on the line. It had been 24 years since he last heard from the guy. 24 years since that 'thing' happened between him and John. Bobby was not sure whether Jack had been in contact with John since then and whether Jack was aware of what had happened to John. "What's up Jack?"

"You're so mad at me you don't even want to know how I was doing, eh Bobby?"

Bobby sighed. "No…it's not that, I've no right to be mad at you after what happened" he truly meant what he said. Nobody had the right to be mad at Jack for keeping his whereabouts from everyone after what happened to him 24 years ago. "It's just…it's been so long Jack, 24 years" Bobby explained.

"Yeah…so long"

"I thought you've forgotten everyone…hating us for what had happened to Jenny" Bobby let out a deep breath when he thought of Jenny. Jenny was as sweet as Mary; they grew up together, just like Jack and John, and it was really devastating to think of what had happened to both of them.

"No Bobby, I could never hate everyone, including John…he was the closest thing I have to a brother" there was regret etched in Jack's voice. "And the thing happened to John…I'd do anything to save him"

"Be careful what you wish for Jack" Bobby couldn't bear thinking of the possibilities provided things he had seen the Winchesters did for each other. He knew Jack would have done the same for John taking into account they were so much like brothers; much like Dean and Sam.

"Yeah, I heard about the thing he did…it was expected of John"

So Jack hadn't really abandoned them. He had kept himself updated with everything in his own way. Even Bobby was amazed at how much Jack knew about John and the things happened to him. As much as Sam being an expert in Deanology, Jack was an expertise in the field of John Winchester. No one knew John better than Jack Callahan and Bobby Singer – people would say.

"Well…what done is done cannot be undone" Bobby said, hoping silently everything that had happened in their life could be undone. He would give anything to make it happen.

"Hey Bobby! How far are you from Shawnee State Forest?"

"Shawnee? I'm on my way there" Bobby got anxious all of a sudden. Something told him he was not going to like whatever Jack was going to say later. The boys' latest hunt was in Shawnee to begin with, and then a long lost friend called him after 24 years of exclusion and now asking him whether he's anywhere near Shawnee. 'What the heck is going on?'. "Why?" Bobby was almost afraid to ask.

"I got with me here John's boys…both are sick and hurt, one of them is in a very bad condition" there was fear lacing Jack's voice. "Need your help Bobby"

Bobby thought he had begun to have a heart attack at the mentioning of John's boys; his boys even before John had made the deal. He's getting too old to be shaken by this kind of news. Bobby had really had too much sickening news these few years. First John, then Sam, then Dean…Sam, Dean again, Dean and Sam…and now, he had no idea whom he should be worried about. "Which one of them is bad?"

"Deannie"

The name matched the name crossing Bobby's mind. He had anticipate it considering Sam's earlier newsbreak on Dean having a high fever and the possibility of him persuading Dean to bunk in for several more days before going out for a hunt was minute. Guess Sam had only managed to make a one-day pact with Dean, no more. Knowing how reluctant a recovery could be when it came to Winchesters and how the boys were born stubborn Bobby was confirmed Dean's fever hadn't even broke when the brothers went out into the woods. 'Damn it Dean!'

"Spit out your location!" Bobby turned alarmed and he had unconsciously stepped on the gas pedal; speeding through the narrow county lane. And while he listened for the coordinates, Bobby prayed silently for the boys to be safe. He hoped he would reach them before it was too late.

'_God! Help them please!'_

………………………………………….

Taking a deep breath to ease the strain in his lungs, Jack flipped off his cell phone and shoved it into his jeans pocket. Everything happened too suddenly today - meeting John's boys, talking to Bobby – Jack thought they were unbelievable. Things he'd been ignoring and people he'd been avoiding for more than two decades suddenly were all coming back to him. Jack sighed wearily as he rubbed his stiff neck. It had been a long tiring day.

"Dad?" a concerned son brought him back to the present. "Are you okay?"

Jack turned to Kyle and tugged his lips into a tight smile. "Yeah, never better" his croaky voice betrayed the anxiety building up in his mind.

Kyle raised his brows, unbelieving, for he knew his father more than anyone else – or so, he thought. And he knew better not to push farther than where he'd already been. Pushing won't take him anywhere. He gave his old man a once over and laid his gaze on the Winchesters. His gaze remained on the brothers for a while as his mind digested something. When his brain ticked, Kyle shot Jack a demanding look.

"Dad, you knew the Winchesters?" he asked and waited anxiously for the answer.

Jack's eyes remained on his eldest's face for a second or two before it fell to the floor along with an exasperated sigh. He knew the question would come sooner or later. There were so much secret and so much things to explain at the most inappropriate moments. He just didn't feel like talking about it for the time being.

"I _know_ the Winchesters" he corrected his son, not answering right away.

Giving his father an interrogative stare, Kyle found hesitance and guilt struggling inside Jack. There were so many questions that he would like Jack to clarify, but he didn't want to be forceful; not now when they got two sick men which required them to be calm and composed. Just to confirm his instinct, Kyle shot Jack another question.

"Who's this Bobby guy anyway?"

"An old friend"

Jack's lacking of information in that three words answer confirmed Kyle's thought immediately. His father had let down the wall and he couldn't do anything to penetrate it. Hunching his shoulders in defeat, Kyle shook his head to chase the frustration away.

"You should get some rest dad" Kyle suggested. As much as Jack tried his hardest to look fresh and alert, Kyle was aware the old man was beat. Fatigue lined his darkened face and it was betrayed by the dark circles around his tired eyes. The look in his eyes was laced with fear and Kyle took that as fear for the lives of the brothers Jack had acknowledged as John's boys to the man he was on the phone with. "I'll look after them"

Rest assured by his son's guarantee, Jack let out a deep breath and slumped down to the chair. He would like a nap very much but something in him refused to give in to his desire. He was a father to his two sons but he used to be a nurturer, albeit temporary, to Dean and Sam; though he doubted the boys remembered him or maybe ever even heard of his name before. It was not their fault anyway. Sometimes the older generations made stupid mistakes that the younger ones would continue to suffer from years after.

Shaking his head in resignation, Jack rejected Kyle's offer "I'll keep watch for an hour more, then you take over"

If Kyle didn't know better, he would have think Jack was being childish; being stubborn and all. To see the attachment Jack had on the brothers, Kyle felt a pang jealousy building within him. He wished he had witnessed more of this other side of Jack before. It was difficult to see Jack Callahan acting fatherly in normal days; even the sons didn't have the privilege.

"I'll get us coffee" Kyle retired with a huff. He strode lazily to the door when his father stopped him halfway. Giving Jack a look over his shoulder, Kyle waited for the next order.

"Check on Matt"

Kyle raised his brows and nodded. He had been thinking on doing that anyway; Jack didn't even have to tell him in the first place. Since Matt darted out of the room, he already decided to go after him.

"Yeah.." Kyle gave his father a nonchalant wave before he left the room and headed to the kitchen.

…………………………………………

"Damn!"

Matt splashed his face with the icy cold water, hoping it would cool the pulsating heat on his skin. Giving the back of his neck a good rub to release the tensed muscle, Matt looked at his reflection in the window's glass. His eyes were red brimmed and puffy. He sighed deeply and grabbed a washcloth to dry his soaked face.

"You're cool?"

The voice made him jumped a little. He turned to his back reflexively and found Kyle leaning against the kitchen wall; his arms crossed across his broad chest and his face was stoic. Matt cleared his throat and tossed the washcloth away before he leant against the kitchen counter.

"What are you doing here?"

Matt avoided giving straight answer. He was not good in lying, especially not to his big brother. Kyle seemed to be having this eerie sixth sense of knowing Matt's true feeling; more than Matt ever knew by himself.

"Gonna' make us some coffee"

Kyle pushed himself away from the wall, strode to the counter and stood by Matt's side. Mixing the coffee with hot water in the coffee maker, Kyle waited for his brother to make the first move. Knowing his kid brother like the back of his hand, Kyle was aware he didn't have to wait too long.

"It could have been us, ya' know?"

Kyle looked at Matt from the corner of his eyes and returned his gaze to the boiling black liquid in the coffee maker. He wondered how much coffee powder was needed to create the same concentration of blood. If only blood loss could easily be replaced by mixing a little portion of blood with water, then they don't have to worry about Dean being anemic from puking and coughing out blood. Gulping nervously, Kyle shook his head and cussed himself for thinking about something so gruesome.

"What do you mean?" he pretended being ignorant, a mechanism to avoid talking about things he didn't like to think of.

"It should have been us…we're the one who supposed to hunt those bastards"

Kyle sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. Either it was in his nature or he had developed it from listening to the emo stuff he was so much in love with, Matt really was an expressionist; one who didn't know how to contain his feelings during much inappropriate time. Given any chances, Matt would take the liberties of speaking his mind to anyone he could get a hold of; all the time that anyone would be Kyle.

"Sometime things just didn't happen as planned" that was the best reason he could give. Then again, Kyle knew it was not enough. It would never satisfy the ever hungry-for-pansy-talk Matt. His sissy little brother would always found other things to say and would stop only when he wanted to.

"If we were there half an hour earlier…this wouldn't have happened" Matt hunched his shoulders and shook his head wearily.

Kyle had expected that to come out sooner or later and he was anticipating for the next blame-it-all-on-me statement waiting to come out from Matt's mouth.

"It's my fault…if I weren't holding us back… innocent's life wouldn't be at stake"

Bull's eye! Kyle inhaled a deep breath and let it out in an irritated huff. "I doubt Sam and Dean were innocent…in fact I think they are much better hunters than both of us together" he was damn sure of that. He heard a lot about the Winchesters trio, but he never thought the Samuel Winchester he knew from Stanford was one of them. It was just too absurd. Sam was too much of a geek. However, that was then, now, he was not so sure anymore.

"It's my fault they are going to die Kyle…" Matt slumped himself onto the chair and sunk his face into his hands. "If only we're half an hour early"

Kyle grunted. He was tired, he was worried, he was sleepy and he was everything but good. A brooding little brother just happened to add to that everything he was. Honestly, he had no mood or time to get involve in sissy talk like this, but then Matt just wouldn't leave everything alone. Man! He hated Matt getting moody or broody just as much as he hated sissy talk.

"As much as I remembered there's no one dead yet…but then there'll be one soon if we don't stop this pansy talk" Kyle poured the coffee into the three mugs. He took one and put another steaming mug of coffee on top of the table, right in front of Matt.

Matt gazed up to Kyle. His face etched with confusion. "What?"

"You know I can survive everything but heart-to-heart talks" Kyle grinned stupidly as he took a sip from his mug. "They'll freeze my blood and I'll die of hypothermia"

"You're such a jerk Kyle" Matt hissed with disgust. Give the honor to his brother to spoil the mood. "No one gets hypothermia from spilling out his guts" the youngest Callahan rolled his eyes, realizing it made no point from the beginning to have this conversation with his big brother.

"I know I would"

Kyle wiggled his brows as he flashed his goofy grin –Matt detested it the most. He laughed triumphantly when Matt shot him the death glare that he never really was afraid of. Giving his brother an assuring pat on the shoulder, Kyle said "And don't think highly of yourself bro…people don't die from mistakes you made during a hunt, they died from the fancy talks that you're really best at" before he darted out of the kitchen with Jack's coffee; just in time before a flying rag could hit him right on the face. Aiming was another thing his little brother was not good at.

……………………………

Jack watched as Kyle left the room giving him a tired indignant wave. When his eldest was gone, Jack hunched his shoulders forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He inhaled a deep breath and released it too slowly; clearing away his mind and body from fatigue, worries, and whatever bad elements that had been invading him since he got that distress call from Kyle.

Glancing at the Winchester boys, Jack contemplated on the possibilities of their current positions being replaced by his own boys. Would he be able to take it considering the fact he almost reached his boundaries taking care of another's? But Dean and Sam were close to his owns to begin with. They used to live with him, to eat from his hand, hell! Sam used to be breastfed by Jenny. Jack even got his early training to be a cool father from taking care of Dean; playing pitch, wrestling, and fighting for the remote. How could he not reach his limit seeing the boys so sick and so handicapped?

The stirrings on the lanky boy's bed distracted Jack from his self-reflection. He looked at Sam who tossed and turned on the bed, restless and agitated. When the brown eyes finally snapped open, Jack went to his side and offered a comforting hand on the boy's chest, stopping him from further attempt of jerking up in a bolt. The boy was sweating profusely, a good sign of his fever breaking.

However, Sam was desperate to rouse. Jack could feel the resistance to keep lying on the bed emitting from the boy's body under his restraining palm. Knowing well he could do nothing to keep the youngest Winchester on the bed, Jack helped Sam leant against the headboard. Sam's movement was slow but strong and certain.

Once he was sat up, Sam turned his head to Dean's bed and studied his brother's limp figure. Dean looked so fragile and vulnerable lying unconscious like that. Sam cringed. Dean didn't do fragile and vulnerable. Well, maybe he was a little bit expressive lately, but not like this. Sam found himself missing the stoic and heroic Dean; who would laugh at the face of death and would come in between his little brother and the incoming dangers. He missed that Dean so much.

"Dean?" was the first word coming out from Sam's chapped lips. Amidst other things, like his own pain and discomfort, Sam asked for his brother. Always putting the need of his other significant half's before him was the trademark of a Winchester that Jack used to be so familiar with. Jack smiled tightly. The boys had grown into being each others' lifeline and the cause for each other to live for. He couldn't help wondering whether Kyle and Matt had the same bond like the Winchesters'.

Jack looked over his shoulder to Dean and turned his gaze at Sam, giving him an assuring smile. "He's fine...for now" he wished he could stop after the first two words. The boy in front of him frowned in return.

"It's really my fault…I shouldn't gave in to him in the first place, shoulda' stayed at the motel" Sam mumbled as he brought one hand to his face. He sniffed once and held back the sobs reigning in his chest. "And I didn't research well…didn't know the arrows were poisonous" there were all coming back to him. He was so busy keeping Dean in the motel bed he didn't focus on the research.

"No one learnt about the poison without getting one" Jack assured Sam though he knew it was far useless to stop the boys from blaming himself for what happened to his big brother. Sam was so like Matt. Always blaming themselves for something they didn't do.

Sam cleared his throat and looked at Jack from under his too long bangs and exhaled slowly. "Sorry for the trouble we caused you sir" he muttered softly and almost hesitantly.

"Nah…don't mention that" Jack flashed Sam a comforting smile. "Hunters stick together"

An amused snort was all he got for a reply. Jack looked at Sam with a confused stare and found the answer without even the need to ask. He forgot about the things the boys had gone through, about what they did which caused anger in the hunting community. Being helped by other hunters could have been the last thing the Winchesters would experience. Jack hunched his shoulders in defeat. Thinking about it, Jack himself would have killed the boys if they weren't Winchesters. But honestly, there was no use of taking other people's life when they were actually trying to save lives. There was no good for revenge; what a dead soul could do to restore hundreds of other soul which were lost while hunting for that only one.

Suddenly both of the grieving men were shocked with a painful moan from the other bed. _'It couldn't be! It's too early for the poison to start doing its job again_'. Dean had just had one less than hour ago. Jack looked at Sam. As he had expected, the youngest Winchester tried desperately to get out of the bed to be by his brother's side. Jack contemplated on straining him and go take a look on Dean himself but later decided to let Sam had it his own way. Giving way for the boy to rouse, he curled an arm across Sam's back and assisted him to Dean's bed. Jack seated Sam on the chair by Dean's bedside and grabbed Sam's blanket, pulling it over the boy's hunched frame.

"Hey Dean?" Sam called out softly as he reached a hand to touch Dean's face. He flinched at the searing heat on Dean's skin when his hand made contact with his brother. He rubbed a thumb of Dean's sunken cheek and carded his fingers through Dean's damp hair. Sam other hand reached for Dean's, careful not to touch the IV canula on it. Grappling his brother's hand gently, Sam hoped Dean could hear and feel him.

The green eyes opened in droopy and tired slits. They were glassy and disoriented; much to Sam's dismay. When Dean was awake, Sam was drowned in his own pain and too unfocused to notice how familiar an older brother Dean had been; protective, stoic, and composed. Now, when he was fully awake, Dean was delirious and fragile and vulnerable and not the big brother he had known for so long.

"Sam..my?" when he woke, Dean started shaking furiously; Sam really wished he would just keep sleeping and never wake up at all. Dean's lips trembled as he called out Sam's name again "Sa..Sammee?"

"Yeah Dean, it's Sammy" Sam flinched at the nick he'd used for himself. Praying his thanks Dean was too doped to remember it later, Sam gave his brother a honest-to-God smile. "Hey! Rise and shine dude" he cupped Dean's scalp in his palm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Hurt…" Dean groaned and Sam cringed. That was not Dean talking. It was someone else; someone who was in too much pain and agony and someone who was lost to the world. "It hurts Sammy" Dean's hand grasped Sam's tightly.

"I know Dean". No! He didn't know. Sam didn't know how much Dean was hurting. If there was anything he could do to channel Dean's pain to himself, he would sacrifice everything to make it happen.

"I'm sorry Sammy…" Dean's next utterance caused Sam a jolt in the heart.

"Sorry for what Dean?"

"Sorry for holding you back"

Sam's heart wrenched so greatly when Dean was finished with his words. He studied Dean's face to make sure it was Dean's delirium doing the talking, not a conscious and alert Dean. If it was the latter Sam would ran away and jump off a cliff. Luckily, the look on his big brother's face was sheer emptiness. But then his brother must have been keeping it for so long to let it out in his pain-driven oblivion; though without any intention to intimidate Sam at all. Sam gulped.

"I'm sorry for being a bad brother…a disappointment" Dean seemed to couldn't stop talking and Sam wondered how he got the strength to do that. He looked deep into Dean's eyes and found nothing but dazed green orbs looking back at him. "I'm sorry Sammy" Dean whimpered wretchedly. What Dean did after that Sam could never have expected. Dean cried silently; tears rolled down his cheek like a raindrop on the glass window.

"Deann…" Sammy grunted sadly. Dean definitely didn't do crying, but then how could he know if Dean was doing it behind his back; while he was out with Ruby, or while Dean was alone in the bathroom having a noisy shower or even when Dean was alone in the Impala waiting for him to come back from shopping. "Stop it man…" he pled.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

The ask for forgiveness was a steady chant on Dean's lips and Sam had to hold the urge to muffle Dean's mouth with his hand and stop his brother's chanting for good. But he chose to do it the gentler way. Sam stooped over his brother's face and put his forehead on top of Dean's. Closing his eyes as if to channel his thought to Dean, Sam whispered "Shut up Dean…just shut up".

Dean jolted slightly at the contact and after a second or two he relaxed; recognizing the familiar touch and gesture as none other than his Sammy. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be lulled by Sam's whispers. It didn't take him long to fall back into sleep.

Though aware Dean had fallen back to sleep, Sam didn't lift his head. He kept it that way for a little longer, all the while hushing Dean with soft coos and soothing whispers. When he felt a wave of vertigo took over and punishing him with a slight headache, only then Sam moved his forehead away from Dean's, slightly brushing his lips on top of Dean's head; planting a ghostly kiss to let Dean know he was not going anywhere and there was nothing to be sorry for.

Sam gave Dean's hair another stroke before he turned around, finding Jack and Kyle hovering over him like mother hens. Both of the Callahans were stupefied for the reason Sam wouldn't dare think about. He was not himself by being too expressive and too emotional – though he doubted Dean would say the otherwise – and he was caught in the act by two grown men. Sam couldn't help but blushed.

"I smell coffee" Sam grinned half heartedly and looked back at Dean. 'I'm sorry Dean…'

TBC

* * *

a/n: Okay, I know there is a little bit of fluff in the end, but I couldn't help it, he. Updating had taken so much longer. Sorry for the late update, my head decided it was time for a writer's block all out of the blue. I tried my best in this chapter, hope it'd be satisfying. More of the sick boys are coming in the next chapter. Please review if you have the time, thanks for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchester boys, the Impala, and their Uncle Bobby. Maybe someday…nah! Don't think so.  
Betas : Thanks bia1007 and PsiChic for their awesome job. If there are still any mistakes, they're mine for playing with the fic after they'd edited it, he.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Sam stared at the green puddle brimming in his cup and gave it a second thought. Green tea, no sugar, what could be worse than this? He looked up through his unruly bangs and gave the hovering man an idiotic smile. Kyle smiled back at him, and it was not one of those friendly smiles Kyle used to offer him years before. It was more of a demanding smile, a callous one. Sam relented, took a sip and winced.

Kyle snickered as he watched Sam urgently finishing the green tea in one gulp. He took the cup away from Sam's shaky hands, refilled it and handed it back to him. When Sam shot him a puzzled look, Kyle couldn't help but grin devilishly.

"You know Kyle…I don't remember asking for green tea just now."

"Until your temperature goes down, no caffeine for you, dude." Kyle wiggled his brows. "You know green tea's good for cooling down…you said so yourself." The grin just got bigger.

Sam's eyes widened at that reminder and he hated himself for lectures the on the goodness of green tea that he had given Kyle years back in Stanford. What surprised him though was the fact Kyle remembered it. Knowing he was not in privilege of getting any mercy, Sam repeated the whole process - stared, gave the drink a second thought, looked up to Kyle and offered him a bewildered smile, was replied with another callous one, relented, took a sip and again winced. Only this time, he didn't finish it in one gulp. Instead, he held the cup protectively in his hand and took a small sip every now and then.

Kyle snorted, knowing Sam had finally found a way to stop him from refilling his cup. "You're such a baby, Sam."

"And you're bossy." Sam rebuked, unwilling to forfeit. Both of them exchanged deathly glares and later retired with an amused snort.

Sam took another sip of green tea and glanced out the kitchen's window. It was getting dark and Dean's condition was yet to improve. If anything, he had gotten worse. It had been almost two hours since Dean's last spasm and since then he was comatose, giving no sign of recovering. Dean's fever went on and off unexpectedly. Sometimes his temperature spiked so high they need to bring it down by bathing him with cold water. When it suddenly plunged down, they covered him with layers of blankets to keep him warm. But all the time they worked on him, Dean wasn't even awake. He was either delirious or completely unconscious.

It was really devastating for Sam to see Dean getting worse and it hurt even more to see him fight death so furiously. Every time the pain struck, Sam almost thought it would be better for Dean to die than to keep on fighting this desperately. But the little Sammy in him just wasn't willing to let Dean go, not again. So along with excruciating pain attack, Sam would pray silently to God not to take his brother away from him – to give him more time so they could mend things up, fix the broken bond and be brothers again. He wanted to be Dean's little Sammy again.

"Glad to see you again, Sam." Kyle's voice pulled Sam back from his endless train of thought. He turned to Kyle and their eyes met. "Guess if things hadn't turned out this way, there would be a lot of catching up between us two."

Sam drew away from Kyle's gaze and his eyes fell on the cup again, staring at the green tea - lost in thought. A thin curl appeared on his lips. "Yeah"

The withdrawal told Kyle Sam was not in the mood for any small talk or recounts of their past and Kyle couldn't blame him for that. After what he'd been through – _witnessing his brother's close death calls and again and again pulling him away from them_ – it was amazing Sam still had the will and strength to even breathe. Sam may have been weak from the fever, but still it took Kyle and Jack a lot of determination and patience to get him out of the bedroom and into the kitchen so he could get something to eat. It was Matt giving Sam the puppy eyes – _that's what Kyle called it_ – that made Sam give in.

"You guys have so much in common." Sam said.

"What?" Kyle was taken aback, not expecting Sam to actually speak. "I would say Matt and I are not at all alike." Sam talking about him and Matt was the least he expected to happen in this situation.

"No…not Matt" Sam sighed before he continued "Dean and you." He felt a sob coming up when he mentioned his brother's name and Sam tried to cover it with a cough.

Kyle's breath caught. He never expected that.

"It's one of the reasons why I was so attached to you back then…you are so much like him." explained Sam.

Back in Stanford, Kyle was what held Sam together. Being apart from Dean didn't really give him the peace and quiet he'd been craving for when they were together. Instead, he thought about leaving everything and going right back to Dean and Dad every single day – especially to Dean. Sam considered himself blessed for meeting Kyle since he reminded Sam a lot of Dean. His attitude, his speech and his posture resembled Dean in every possible way. Even his sense of protectiveness was so Dean-like. So, Sam turned to Kyle for strength to move on and later came Jessica as his pillar and aid.

"And here I thought I was the one holding on to you." Kyle said with a smile. He on the other hand saw Matt in Sam and couldn't help being the big brother he had always been to Matt when he was with Sam. They hadn't realized that they were actually clinging to each other for comfort and familiarity during those years at Stanford.

"Like I was Dean to you, you were Matt to me back then."

Sam looked up to Kyle – _a surprised look was clear on his features_ - and smiled a little. That's comforting, the fact that both of them were hypocrites trying to run away from their destinies. Odd enough, Sam thought Kyle was at Stanford for the same reason he was, except that Kyle accepted the destiny meant for him earlier than Sam did.

Not long after he moved out to live with Jess, Kyle disappeared from college, vanished into thin air as if there had never been a Kyle Callahan before. Sam was devastated at first but luckily he had Jess to make things better, then Dean came and he had no reason to cling to anyone else anymore. Even when he lost Jess in the fire, the loneliness didn't quite match the one he felt when he was apart from Dean. He guessed nobody could ever take Dean's place.

"We're such fools," Sam sniffed, much amused at his foolishness. "Trying to run away and everything…"

"Yeah, never been more stupid." Kyle couldn't agree more. He went to the stove, took a clean bowl, filled it with chicken broth and headed back to Sam who sat at the counter with his shoulders hunched and body covered with a blanket. He put the steaming bowl in front of Sam and demanded "Now eat." as he handed Sam a spoon.

Sam shot Kyle an assessing look and huffed in defeat. '_Too much Dean'_. He took the spoon and claimed "You're bossy."

……………………………….

Matt suppressed a yawn and flexed his muscles, chasing the drowsiness away from engulfing him completely. He glanced at his old man who was slumped on the makeshift bed made out of nothing but a chair at one corner of the room. Jack's limbs were awkwardly sprawled and his head lolled to the back. Matt took off his jacket and carefully spread it over his father, hoping it would add some comfort and warmth to his much needed rest.

The gesture was so familiar to him. Jack falling asleep while taking care of a wounded son and Matt - _being in charge of the last shift_ - spreading a cloth over his sleeping old man, were all too much of a Callahan habits. However, usually they were taking care of a wounded Kyle then but now a stranger took up Kyle's place and his dad acted much the same as if it was Kyle. Matt couldn't help but wonder why.

As he turned his gaze over to Dean, Matt bit his lips. What was it with big brothers? Why were they so prone to injuries? As long as he could remember, it was always Kyle who turned up with the most serious injuries after a hunt went south. Even if the hunt was just a simple salt and burn, Kyle always managed to injure himself in the most foolish way though. Concussion? Kyle had had so many Matt was surprised his brother's head was still intact. Rib cracks? Any radiologist would die from a heart attack if he'd ever take a look at Kyle's x-rays. He bet Kyle had so many cracks on his ribs they'd rather look like a wrecked car.

Now Dean – _another big brother, hardheaded and a stubborn ass for sure he bet_ – was also prone to injuries. Matt was willing to bet all his life savings that there wasn't a single bone in Dean's body was free of cracks and no muscles that weren't torn. Come to think of it, Dean had so much in common with Kyle and maybe this was the reason Jack was so engrossed in taking care of the oldest Winchester. Matt even pictured Kyle in Dean's place when he watched the wounded man a little while ago.

Matt yawned again and he tried to stay awake by keeping himself busy. He went to Dean's bed and put an assessing palm on top of Dean's forehead, flinching a little at the scorching heat. Dean really was a strong man.; he had been sick for almost 48 hours now, down with a raging fever and erupting pain, running on an empty stomach and drained body fluid and still holding on. Any typical man in his place would just give up and die, too tired to fight. _'Guess Dean is not typical at all'_. Matt took away the wet cloth – now completely dry - on Dean's head and was about to wet it again when he realized the basin was nearly empty.

Matt took the empty wash basin and looked at his dad, and then turned to Dean. Maybe it wouldn't hurt much if he left just for a minute or two to refill the basin and get something to drink so he wouldn't fall asleep while keeping watch. Dean was still dead to the world and after all Jack was there. His father was the most alert person he could think of and he would scram onto his feet in an instant if there was going to be any movement from Dean. He gave it a second thought and decided it was safe to go out for a minute or two. Matt went out of the room and headed to the bathroom.

It would take him less than a minute to know he had made the wrong decision.

……………………………………….

Hot! It was too hot!

Something's burning…no! Not something! It's someone…and it's him.

Dean opened his eyes with a start and looked around him with wary eyes. No Sam. Where's Sammy? Is he okay? Did the demons get him? Where's Sammy? And why was everything so damn hot? His head's burning, his eyes were like balls of fire, his tongue dry, skin parched, and his inside baking. Dean tossed and turned trying to shake off the heat. He failed terribly as the movement only intensified the pain residing at the back of his skull.

Where's Sam? Where is he anyway?

Why is he alone? Where's everyone?

Dean pushed himself up and rolled away from the bed, staggering to stand up. 'Gotta find Sam'. He stepped away from the bed, felt something tugging at his hand and fiercely shook it off. There was a piercing pain running up his arm but he ignored it and started shuffling across the room. Though weak, Dean's gait was as vigilant as the true hunter he was. His vision was hazy but nothing would stop him from finding Sam. His head pounded heavily but no suffering was worse than losing Sam to the hands of evil.

'Find Sam…gotta look for him…find Sammy' Dean chanted mentally. He stopped at the doorframe, panting, and moved on towards the cabin's front door, out into the cold dark night wearing nothing but a pair of jeans.

'Sammy'

………………………………………

Jack awoke with a jolt from a long lost memory which had turned into a nightmare. He blinked a few times and when he'd regained control of himself, Jack sighed tiredly. He brought a palm to his face and rubbed it tightly. "Matt?" He thought he just saw Matt walk across the room towards the door.

He got no response. Suddenly Jack's heart skipped a beat and he turned to the bed, gasping when he found it empty. Dean was gone. The IV line dangled limply by the bedside and there were traces of blood on the floor leading to the entrance. Jack sprang to his feet and bolted to the door, finding no one and nothing in the deserted hallway.

Matt was coming out of the bathroom holding a washbasin and there was a puzzled look on his face. "Dad?" he called out, concerned.

"Dean!!!" Jack didn't answer but dashed towards the readily opened front door instead.

The racket caused Kyle and Sam to come up running from the kitchen. They watched, mouths agape, as Jack ran out of the cabin into the night, hollering Dean's name. Realization hit and the boys left everything behind and followed Jack to the cabin's porch.

Jack squinted his eyes, scanned the dark area surrounding their cabin and saw Dean at the deck by the lake, going straight forward and looking dazed. "Damn!" he cussed before sprinting towards the dock. "Dean! Stop son!" he hollered, hoping Dean was clear-headed enough to actually understand him.

"Dean!!" Sam called out loud though his lungs didn't agree with him. He abandoned the blanket and sprinted towards the lake, towards his brother. "Dean!!!" he called out again, desperately hoping Dean could hear him. Now everything seemed to move in slow motion again.

A car came into the yard, the headlights shining brightly against the intimidating darkness. Sam couldn't care less. He had to get to Dean but he was moving too slow. His limbs ached, his head throbbed and before he knew it, his legs gave way and his knees buckled under him. 'No, no!' Sam cried, tears rolling down his cheeks. Just as he was about to hit the ground, a strong arm grabbed his biceps and pulled him up again. Sam looked up and found Kyle hovering over him; his face firm and determined.

"Let's go Sam!" he urged and Sam found his strength in that voice. _Too much Dean_. Sam started running again, now assisted by Kyle and just after a couple of strolls, Sam was running on his own again.

They were just about to reach the dock when they heard a splashing sound. Sam stopped dead in his tracks and gasped. "Oh no! No!!" he cried and scrambled to the dock just as Jack jumped into the water. Dean was nowhere to be found. "No!!" Sam hollered with all his might. His blood rushed violently to his head and his heart thumped viciously in his ribcage. He felt like he was ripped apart from the inside.

Sam was just about to jump into the water when someone grabbed him from his back and dragged him aside. "No! Let me go!" he struggled fiercely. His fist came flailing in the air and made contact with a jaw.

"No Sam! We can't lose you too!" Kyle's grip was like iron. No matter how hard Sam twisted and turned to free himself, he failed. _'Lose you too? What do you mean? Who's lost?' _"Matt! Cm'here!" he heard Kyle shout for Matt and within seconds Sam was in another person's embrace, but still the grasp was iron-like.

"Deann…!" Sam cried as he watched Kyle dive into the water. '_Please, Dean needs me'_. Sam coughed violently as his lungs betrayed him badly. He panted and gasped for air. He fell on his knees and started a coughing fit. "Dean" he called desperately for Dean in between the hacking.

Suddenly a figure lurched beside him and went right into the water with a loud splash. Sam startled. The iron grip was still holding him, never letting go. Then, who was it?

……………………………

Bobby's car trudged through the woods in eerie silence for ten minutes before he finally reached a cabin by the lake. The cabin was situated at the precise coordinates given by Jack and Bobby couldn't be more certain than this that he had reached the Callahan's residence, had finally reached his boys.

He was still a minute away from the yard when he saw a figure walking away from the porch into the dark heading towards the deck. Being the only living person knowing the brothers this well, Bobby immediately recognized the staggering figure as Dean. He heaved a sigh of relief. Dean was okay after all to be able to walk like that. There was no way Jack would trust him to walk outside alone in the dark if he was so sick and dying. But wait…why was Dean wearing nothing but his jeans? He should have known better not to wander in the winter night half naked.

Bobby's breath caught. His old hunter instinct told him what he just saw wasn't something good. He smelled trouble. Just as his car reached the yard, he saw an older man running towards Dean – _who now stood on the deck by the lake_ – followed by a much younger one, Sam, and two other ones. On his way to Dean, Sam fell down and was brought up to his feet by a young man not much older than the youngest Winchester himself. Together, they ran towards the dock and arrived a little too late since Dean had already jumped into the lake. Bobby didn't care to switch off the ignition as he opened the door and sprinted his way towards the dock, moving as fast as the younger hunter he used to be decades ago.

Before he even realized it, Bobby had dived into the lake and started looking for Dean.

……………………………………

Heads bobbed up and down on the surface of the lake but neither belonged to Dean. It was either Kyle's or Jack's or Bobby's but not Dean's. Then the heads disappeared into the water again and surfaced after a minute or two, still no Dean.

"God! God please!!" Sam pled. It was taking too long. The water was freezing cold, and Dean was too sick and too weak to swim. "God! Don't take him please!" he cried loudly; looking up as if searching for the highest power.

"Dean!!!" Sam hoped his call would reach Dean somewhere and be able to pull him back to the surface.

………………………….

Jack moved his limbs, floating aimlessly in the water. He looked around, found Bobby and Kyle but no Dean. He dived again, this time praying silently for God to bring his Deannie back to him, to bring Sammy's Dean back to the world. He prayed that God would not take Dean away, not now, not like this.

He dived lower than he did the first two times before. The pressure was oppressive and his lungs ached for oxygen. His muscles throbbed painfully from the coldness of the water but those were not enough to stop his urge to get Dean back. Jack dived lower and hoped. He looked around in the dark water, saw nothing. His heart began to freeze and his lungs starved for air. Just as he was about to resurface, his feet touched something and he felt a slight movement that made him know immediately he had found what he was looking for.

Jack swam his way down and caught an arm. He tugged at it and pulled it up. Dean emerged from under him and Jack didn't wait any longer to grab the boy's limp body. He pulled Dean as he appeared at the surface and gasped. Kyle and Bobby went to his aid in an instant. Together they headed to the banks, dragging Dean out.

Bobby sprang up to his feet and lifted Dean into a cradle. He might be old, but he was strong enough to carry his boy to safety. Up ahead came Sam and Matt, sprinting towards them and behind him Jack and Kyle were just up on their feet. Bobby carried Dean and laid him on the forest floor, away from the water. Somehow, water and lake were not a good combination but a deadly one instead. Sam reached them as soon as Dean was put on the ground.

Bobby did a round up and the result frightened him to death. Dean's skin was too cold for his liking. His body was limp and paralyzed. But the greatest horror was that there was no heartbeat in Dean's chest. Dean wasn't breathing!

"Shit!" Bobby cussed and found Sam looking at him questioningly, almost hopefully. "Come on Dean!" Bobby didn't hesitate a bit when he started giving Dean rescue breathing followed by a chest compression. Bobby repeated the process, he breathed for Dean, and then started on the chest compressions, and back to breathing for him, but Dean still wasn't breathing. "Dean! Don't do this son!" he shouted as he began another round of chest compression.

Sam, who crouched at Dean's side, had started chanting Dean's name and it annoyed Bobby so much. To hear Sam crying added to the pressure and was just as hurtful as losing Dean. He had to bring the boy back, needed to. He had had enough of holding Dean's lifeless body the last time that boy was dead. He had had enough of losing Sam who died in a way the night Dean died. Bobby was not in favor of facing such suffering again.

"Dean!" Bobby hollered for the umpteenth times as he pounded on Dean's chest. Still, the boy was unresponsive under his palms, showing no sign of breathing. Dean's face was blue and lifeless. "Deann…" he called, softly this time – weak and submissive.

Jack, Kyle and Matt watched silently as Bobby broke into tears and Sam screamed Dean's name so loudly into the night.

Sam looked up to Bobby who had stopped doing the CPR, unbelieving and angry. "Bobby! Don't stop!" he cried as he pulled Bobby's collar. "Don't!" Sam was desperate. Tears brimmed in his eyes and his breathing hitched. His face was hot from fear, anger and resistance. His limbs were numb and cold.

Bobby sat limply at Dean's side and Sam shook his head in resistance. "No! No! I won't let him die!" he cried as he started pounding on Dean's chest. He pumped and pumped and pumped until his hands hurt, until he could hear Dean's rib snap under his palms. But Sam was not going to stop. He was not going to lose his brother tonight, not again.

"Dean!!!!" Sam cried loudly and his voice pierced through the silent night, rending the hearts of every living thing residing in it.

"Dean!!"

TBC

* * *

a/n: Shall I warn you that I'm not going to continue this fic until I get reviews? LOL. Guess not. I'm never going to stop. I enjoyed writing this story as much as you enjoyed reading it. But kind and heartwarming reviews are what most writers crave for. Anyway, hope you like this chapter here and thanks for sticking to this story till now and thanks a whole bunch for those who reviewed so kindly. Love ya' all. And I was thinking of writing AU series on the Callahans and our boys. But I'm not sure whether I should be doing it, so I posted a poll. Please take a look at it on my profile and vote. Thanks!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer**: I've dreamt the boys and their uncle Bobby were mine, but sadly…it'll always be a dream (lips tremble…)!  
**Co-author**: I love my bia1007  
**Beta**: My awesome and sweet PsiChic

a/n: Since the plots and the characters' development were not planned beforehand and was subject to change from time to time, I had improvised a previous chapter (chapter 6 that is) as well. I'm not sure whether it was allowed but I need to do that since I know you're all great readers and you _will_ notice. So, I'm sorry! (whimpers). Hope you'll have good time reading this one.

* * *

**Chapter 10**

"Dean!!!!"

Sam's heart-rending cry cut through the woods, piercing the night. There was so much sorrow in that cry, every living thing wept with him. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he kept pounding on Dean's chest, pleading his big brother to come around, not to leave him alone because he needed him so much. When chest compression didn't work, Sam resorted to mouth to mouth breathing, and then again back to chest compression – the whole time tears streaming down his face. Sam looked so young, just like the little Sammy Jack and Bobby used to know, who clung to his brother for protection, for love and comfort and the tears showed how much he grieved the loss.

Jack watched Sam's frantic attempts to bring his brother to life again in complete silence. Since he came out of the water, all he did was watch. He watched as Bobby started on his rescue effort, then as he gave up after Dean showed no sign of breathing and again only observed when Sam took Bobby's place to save Dean. Jack felt something building inside of him – anger, grief, horror and loss. He knew he had to do something, help Sam bring Dean back to life, but had no idea how to do it.

He looked at his sons. Matt had fallen to his knees, his face blank; Kyle was kneeling next to Sam, trying to calm the broken young man. Both his boys were trembling, shaken for several reasons. Maybe it occurred to them they were about to lose a family they didn't even get the chance to know. '_If only they knew how much Dean __always meant__ to me and their mom_'.

…………………………………

"_Unca Jackie…blue__.__" Jack looked down and found round shiny green eyes looking up at him in awe. The toddler looked so much like a gentleman in his mini tuxedo. Jack smiled and bent down to pick Dean up. He knew sooner or later somebody would notice the nervousness written all over his face but he never anticipated a two-year-old could be so observant._

"_I'm blue?" Jack had mastered Dean's baby talk as soon the baby started to babble; now the two- year-old had already acquired new words and Jack could claim pride himself on teaching Dean some of them. "That's because it's my big day"_

_Little Dean's eyes went wide – confused with Jack's explanation. Jack grinned. He bet the little guy didn't even understand what was going on around him. "You wanna' come with me?" Jack asked and the toddler eagerly nodded. "Then come and don't tell mommy and daddy."_

_Dean put one chubby finger in front of his lips and made "Shhh…!"_

_Jack __mirrored Dean's action,_ _peeked round the corner __and slipped out of__ the room with Dean in his arms. He headed for the room down the hallway – the bride's room._

_Jack __motioned to__ Dean and his little best man __know exactly __what to do. Dean knocked on the door. "Come in," the answer came from __behind the mahogany door. Jack winked and Dean tried to return it with one of his own, except he was blinking excitedly rather than winking. Jack reached for the knob and opened the door._

_Gracefully standing in the centre of the room was the love of Jack's life. Wearing a beautiful white gown, Jenny looked stunning and Jack couldn't help but smiling with pride._

"_Boys! You are not supposed to be here." Jenny scowled to her most favorite boys. "It's bad luck ya' know?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head and together with it her veil waved._

_Jack grinned at Dean and walked towards her. With the toddler in his arms, Jack embraced his bride. "Well, the little guy wanna' say something to you." He looked into her eyes lovingly. _

_The frown on Jenny's face melted away and was replaced with a smile instead. "Really? And what's that_

"_He wanna' say he loves you so much" Jack muttered softly. "And today is the best day of his life" _

"_Oh yeah? He said that?" _

_Jenny's smile grew wider and sweeter as Jack reached down to her face. But before his lips could touch hers, Dean's little head came down and blocked him. The toddler threw his tiny arms around Jenny's neck and planted a kiss on her cheek, saying "I luv' you…un Jenny."_

"_Aww…Deannie?" Jack frowned, pretending to be disappointed. Dean was always one step ahead of him. _

_Jenny laughed and took Dean from Jack's arms. __He__ thought that was the sweetest laughter he had ever heard. Jenny kissed Dean's chubby cheek and said "I love you too sweetheart__.__" The little boy giggled and clapped his hands happily. _

_Jenny looked at Jack and whispered "And I love you too." And they were wrapped in Dean's laughter and their own happiness._

………………………………..

Eyes filled with tears Jack looked on Dean's bluish and lifeless face. Instantly, the memories of him and Dean flashed through his mind. Jack was angry for not being able to help Sam save his big brother. He failed Dean - the first child he ever called son and treated like one, the boy who was entrusted to his care as his godson the day he was born.

Suddenly a well-locked memory was unleashed. Jack was reminded of something when he thought about the day Dean was born to Mary and John in a delivery assisted by the Winchester's family doctor - Jack himself. He remembered Dean doing something similar to what he was doing right now – drowning and dying from lung failure. Jack's eyes widened as he whispered…"He did this before!" and he knew immediately what to do.

…………………………………..

"_One big push and the baby will be out honey." John caressed Mary's sweaty face in the hope to offer some comfort and reassurance to her. "Then everything will be fine," he kissed Mary's hand._

"_Fine my ass!" Mary retorted, annoyed by John's calmness. It had been 27 long hours of pain and agony and Mary was beat to hell. She'd been pushing for the last half an hour and the baby, her baby, decided to disobey. He…or she must be a naughty and stubborn one, just like her. 'Why can't you be more like daddy?' John was more balanced, a good man everyone said, and Mary couldn't agree more. All the time she thanked God for giving him to her as husband. John was just too good to be true and Mary thought she must have done something real good in the past to be rewarded like this. _

"_This is serious Mary…you need to try again, he's been in there for too long now." Jack reminded her although he chuckled at Mary's retort on John which had left the Winchester man blushing. John was a gentle soul compared to the rebellious Mary. _

"_How do you know the baby's a he?" John asked bewildered. There was hope evident in this question._

"_Err…not sure, instinct perhaps?" Jack shrugged and silently cussed himself for raising possibly false hopes. He knew John wished for a boy as his firstborn child. During the pregnancy, John always mumbled something about inheriting his awesome skills and sharing his passion for cars with the little one._

"_Okay Mary…on the count of three, give me one last big push."_

_Mary nodded frantically. She would do anything the end all this and have the baby in her arms. The wait was a real torture. The anxiety already was at its peak the time they learned they're having a baby. She bit her lower lip and waited for the counting._

"_One…two…three, push Mary!" _

_Jack commanded and Mary pushed hard until she could feel the baby was out. She sighed with relief and impatiently waited for the baby to be handed into her arms. But the waiting continued and the worst of it was she didn't hear anything. The baby was not crying! Even Jack didn't announce the baby's arrival and its gender. _

"_Jack…?" Mary's motherly instinct told her something was wrong. "What's wrong?" she asked - voice hoarse from fatigue and pain. There was a racket ahead of her. She saw the nurses gathering around Jack – their faces full of worry. Mary couldn't really make out what they were saying and what they were looking at and it gave her the creeps. "Jack?!" she was frantic. Something was wrong with her baby, she knew it! _

_Jack didn't answer her. Mary pleadingly looked at John and her husband immediately walked to the racket. Before John even reached them, one of the nurses rushed towards him and pushed him away. "Mr. Winchester, we need you to calm down." There was sheer fear in her eyes that caused John's neck to prickle. _

"_Jack?!!" John was furious. He almost pushed the nurse away to get to Jack and his baby. "What happened?!" He looked at Mary and found her weeping. His wife was tired and beat, her suffering hardly over, she already was facing a new one.. _

"_Don't come here John!!" Jack's voice emerged from among the swarming nurses and John was stopped dead in his tracks. Something in Jack's voice made John understand the situation was critical and he had no power to control it – even if he really wanted to. _

_Jack heaved a deep breath as he looked down to the bluish baby. The baby was a boy – the fact added to the pressure, John always wanted a boy – and he was not breathing. The tiny guy was awfully limp and squashy for a newborn that should be kicking and wailing like crazy once released from the womb. _

_He continued his effort in giving the little Winchester CPR. He sealed the baby's mouth and nose with his own and gave him a small puff of breath. Jack watched the rise and fall of the baby's chest, and then he took another breath – repeating the sequence – and waited. No sign of breathing. In moments like this Jack was thankful he was a trained medical practitioner, otherwise he would have freaked out completely. He positioned two of his fingers on the little guy's chest and started compressions, very soft ones. Giving CPR to a baby was not as easy as giving one to an adult. He repeated the procedure five times until he finally heard gurgles from inside the baby's chest, followed by a choking sound before the baby opened his mouth and started wailing – like crazy. The nurses gave a loud cheer. _

_Only now Jack started breathing again himself. He had practically stopped breathing when the baby had fallen so lifeless and limp into his arms just moment ago. It was never easy to help a child into this life and then to watch it being taken away before getting the chance to see the world. Jack knew sometimes complicated pregnancies could cause the death of the baby or even the mom, so he was prepared all the time. But he wasn't when he assisted the Winchesters. He was as excited as the parents waiting for the baby to be born. _

_As much as John couldn't stop talking about the pregnancy, Jack couldn't stop lavishing the unborn baby with gifts and affection – he made sure Mary took all the precautions, provided her all the supplements and the medical checkups, fed her with nourishing meals, and he even lectured her about being too active with the housework. So, he was not ready, totally unprepared when the baby came out not breathing. That was the reason why he didn't give up in resuscitating the little guy where else in previous cases he would have stopped after the third attempt of CPR. _

_Jack smiled, wrapped the little guy in a wool blanket, clasped him in his arms, holding him tenderly and walked towards the Winchesters. Mary was sobbing and John was holding her in his arms when Jack approached them with the baby – their baby._

"_It's a boy!" Jack announced as he made a mental note to check the baby's lungs afterwards. For now, he would let the new parents cherish their newborn. The baby stopped crying as soon as he was placed into Mary's arms. Snuggling closer to his mother, the baby yawned and was fast asleep. Mary's tears rolled down her cheeks and fell onto her son's face as she bent down, planting a kiss on the baby's forehead. _

"_Have you decided on the name?" Jack watched the sight with pride._

"_Dean!" Mary and John answered at the same time. "Dean Winchester__.__" _

"_I'll call him Deannie then…my little Deannie," Jack smiled. _

………………………………..

"Roll him over!!" Jack ordered as he pushed his way through to Dean and Sam. He kneeled right next to a stunned Bobby and looked down at Dean. Sam, Bobby, Matt and Kyle were stupefied by his sudden act – they stared at him bewildered. "Now!" Jack's voice thundered when he saw no act was taken upon his order. Sam was taken aback but he rolled Dean's lifeless body onto his stomach.

Jack rubbed Dean's back so vigorously Sam was sure Dean would end up with nasty bruises. But his heart skipped a beat when he saw dark water pouring from Dean's mouth. Dean must have had swallowed the water when he fell into the lake and it must have drowned his lungs. He watched nervously as Jack rolled Dean onto his back and breathed into his brother's mouth. The oldest Callahan watched as Dean's chest rose and fell and gave him another breath. Then Jack started on the chest compression and he continued the mouth to mouth breathing, harder this time.

Jack was watching Dean's chest when he heard gurgling sound coming out from the eldest Winchester's mouth. Hearing a choking sound, Jack felt a surge of hope emerging inside him. And the hope blossomed when Dean heaved a deep breath and coughed.

"Gahh!!" Dean jolted in a sudden wake from death. He coughed out more water and gasped for air. His lungs craved for oxygen and Dean started breathing frantically. His green eyes were wide with confusion and fear for not being able to breathe. It was Sam's hand on his chest that grounded him, comforted him. It was such a familiar touch.

"Ss…sa…sammy?"

"Yes! Yes it's Sammy!"

"Fff…found…found ya" Dean stuttered as coldness rocked his body. His voice was croaky and Sam could hear the gurgling sound in his throat. "You' kay?"

"God! Oh God! Dean!"

Sam was way beyond relief. Happiness was not the best word to describe his feeling right now. He wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world – even his life. It was too precious – his brother coming back to life, again. Unable to contain his happiness, Sam took Dean into his arms and hugged his big brother tightly – almost not willing to let him go. Tears trickled down his face and he whispered the Winchesters' three sacred words into Dean's ear.

"P'sonal…sp..space bro" Dean muttered. Sarcasm meant he was not okay.

"Shut up Dean!" Sam ignored Dean's stoic attitude. Nothing would come between him and his brother now – not even Dean's ego. "Just shut up…," more tears were streaming down his cheeks. _Damn! Why don't the tears just dry away?_

Bobby wiped away a lone tear as he watched Sam hug his big brother. The last time he watched them hug each other there was so much confusion, awkwardness and suspicion in the gesture. But now, the hug implied nothing but love and compassion of a little brother towards his big brother. Wiping away the tear with his callused hand, Bobby patted Jack's shoulder with unspoken gratitude. Jack turned to him and granted him a proud smile. Then the oldest Callahan looked at the young Winchesters – all the time the smile never faded.

There was too much emotion involved in the last 5 minutes – _which felt like forever_ – Kyle found his heart beating madly, as if it had skipped some beats. First, Bobby's attempt to save Dean made him anxious. When Bobby gave up on reviving Dean, he felt as if he had lost something precious. Then, Sam's resistance to let his brother go was distressing. Next seeing his father acting all of a sudden was confusing. And now, witnessing so much affection in Sam's gesture burdened his eyes with grateful tears. He looked at everyone and found relief in their faces. Matt's face was as bright as Sam's and it made Kyle contemplate on the possibility that his little brother indeed was Sam's mirror image, that they used to be twins in their previous life. Kyle shook his head, dissipating his thoughts as he did so.

"Sam, we better get him inside," Kyle reminded Sam. Dean was far from safe. He was starting on hypothermia judging from the fierce trembles and blue tinge of his body. "Need to warm him up."

Sam didn't let go of Dean but he shifted his arms – one across Dean's back and another went under his knees – and heaved his big brother up into his cradle. Determined as hell, Sam carried Dean towards the cabin though every muscle in him protested with the action. His body ached and his head throbbed but they weren't going to stop him from looking after his brother. He would not fail Dean this time.

Dean's trembling was so hard it shook Sam's body. It hurt him to realize Dean was far from alright. Death still lurked around him, ready to strike again if they were careless. But Sam was not going to let that happen again. Death had to cross over his dead body to get to Dean – he would make sure of that. Sam had had enough of seeing Dean dead in front of him. The first time, he didn't blame it on death – he blamed it on Lilith. The second time, he blamed himself for being reckless. But if there was going to be a third time, he would blame it on death for picking a fight with him!

"Sam-my…" Dean mumbled.

"Dean! Hang on man! Just hang in there!" Sam persuaded gently but there was a commanding tone in his voice. The cabin was just a few strides away but Sam already felt tired to the bones. Dean's weight was beginning to be a strain and Sam knew he couldn't take it any longer. The adrenalin rush which had been his energy boost a while ago had started to fade and he had nothing to cling for strength to go on except the sheer will to take care of Dean. Sam was frustrated when he felt his knees buckle under him, bringing him and Dean down to the ground. But strong hands caught him before he even could go down.

"We got you son." Bobby heaved Sam up to his feet and he got help from Jack. Both of the older hunters were holding Sam at his sides, supporting both his weight and Dean's. Kyle was ahead of them, opening the door for them and Matt was picking up the blanket Sam had abandoned on the porch not long ago. The youngest Callahan ran over to him and spread the blanket over his shoulder – at the same time covering Dean.

'We're not alone Dean' Sam whispered and hoped Dean could hear him.

……………………………..

After so much toil and labor, Sam finally reached the living room and he was too exhausted to walk any further. His body craved for a break and it protested with the extra weight he was carrying. So he resorted to laying Dean down on the couch instead – which was turned into a makeshift bed by Kyle and Matt. Instead of bending to put his big brother down, Sam half stumbled to the couch as his legs turned to jelly, bringing down Dean with him. Luckily Bobby was there to prevent them from face-planting on the floor.

The older hunter assisted Sam to the couch while carefully tending to Dean. Sam was too dazed to care. A severe wave of vertigo hit him, everything he looked at seemed to move in circles. There was too much commotion taking place around him, making the pounding at the back of his skull increasing tenfold. Everyone was rushing here and there but he couldn't make out what they were really doing. Sam squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to extinguish the heat threatening to bake his eyeballs.

"You okay?" Bobby's concerned voice roared in his ears and Sam frowned. Suddenly everything sounded so loud he wanted to scream to make them go away. There was a loud ringing in his head which did not help in easing the noise. He could hear voices bobbing up and down around him but none of them made sense. Sam was losing his fight with consciousness, pulled in by the dwelling darkness. "Sam?" he could hear Bobby calling him but he was too tired to stay awake, to tell Bobby he was okay.

"Ssam…sammy…"

The much familiar voice pulled Sam away from the tempting slumber. He was alert in an instant and his fatigue seemed to vanish for once and for all. Sam opened his eyes and turned to Dean who was seated next to him. Dean's body shook furiously from the cold and his eyes fluttered in vain attempt to fight unconsciousness. His skin was awkwardly white and his face was horrifyingly pale.

"You 'kay?"

Dean's lips quivered and his speech was slurred. But Sam had been living with Dean for too long to not being able to read his big brother's lips. The question itself had been Dean's everyday mantra and sometime Sam was able to foresee it and he would answer without the need for Dean to ask.

Sam cursed himself for being selfish. Here he had Dean worrying about him – when Dean himself was a total wreck – and Sam was caring too much about his own sickness that he ignored his brother totally.

"I'm okay Dean…I'm okay," Sam muttered softly as he moved closer to Dean and slid an arm behind him. He pulled Dean towards him – albeit Dean's grudging response – and wrapped him in his embrace, trying to channel the heat from his fevered body to warm Dean's cold one. "And I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

Dean's trembling body shook Sam's figure and it wrenched his heart so greatly Sam felt like crying. He could hear as Dean's teeth chatter and his breath wheeze. Once in a while, Dean would pant and heave a deep breath, desperate to get air into his abused lungs. His brother's skin was cold and tight under his own skin and Sam tightened his embrace until he could hear Dean flinch.

…………………………………

Matt bit his lips nervously as he watched the Winchester brothers shaking from pain on the couch. There was something he needed to tell Sam and later to Dean - after his recovery. But where could he find the courage to say it after the great consequences of his action? Matt looked at Kyle and found his brother studying him so intently. Once their eyes met, Matt was the first to retire from the staring game. He was aware his brother knew. But he didn't know what was playing on Kyle's mind _- _was he angry? Was he disappointed? Matt was scared to even think of the answers. He watched as Kyle walked to the Winchesters and covered them with a blanket.

His big brother was always the strong one. He wished he was a little bit more like his brother and his father. Sometimes Matt thought he was too soft hearted and too gentle. Most of the time being thoughtful hurt so damn much. Nobody understood him. Neither his father nor his brother could relate when he was feeling all sympathetic and sorry for a grieving spirit. They didn't understand him when he felt there was a need to console the distressed family of a haunting spirit. They even made fun of him, saying he was a baby, a girl and et cetera.

They just didn't understand.

…………………………..

Sam shot Kyle a thankful gaze when he pulled a blanket over them both and the latter returned his thanks with a smile. His eyes fell back on Dean whose trembling now was harder than before. Bobby was crouching at Dean's feet, carefully pulling down his soaked jeans, leaving Dean half naked under the cover. Sam thanked God for modesty saved by that piece of blanket. For a reason, Sam knew Dean needed to stay half naked until his trembling lessened and he knew he was doing something good by taking Dean in his arms.

"It hurts Sammy…" Dean whined painfully and Sam cringed at the sound of his big brother's voice.

"I know Dean." He gulped nervously. How should he know? He was not the one in pain.

"It hurts when you go." Dean's stammered explanation caused Sam's distress to peak. '_He's not talking about the pain at all!'_. Sam felt his body shiver harder than Dean's. His vision turned hazy from unshed tears and his throat felt rough and dry like sandpaper. Unable to hold the tears any longer but unwilling to expose it to anyone, Sam burrowed his face into Dean's damp hair and cried silently.

"I'm sorry Dean…I'm sorry." He chanted the apologies so sadly and hoped Dean would listen. He pulled Dean closer to him and hugged his brother not willing to ever let go. "I'll never leave you again" he made a promise he was uncertain he'd be able to keep.

Amazingly, his promise somehow caused Dean's trembling to lessen. His brother's body went limp and relaxed, Dean's breathing was clearer and his teeth stopped chattering. Sam waited for his tears to dry and looked down to Dean's face. It looked weary and worn, yet so serene and Sam felt guilty as hell to realize he just made a false promise to save Dean. _How many times had the Winchester lied for a good course?_ Or was it only an excuse so that they wouldn't feel so much guilt?

Suddenly Dean screamed out loud as he arched backwards, away from Sam.

"Dean!?" Sam was frantic. How could a situation turn the other way around in just matter of seconds? Just a second ago Dean was doing just fine and the next he was in tremendous pain. "No…no! Not now!" Sam begged. Dean had had too much of suffering for one day. Couldn't he at least get a break?

Dean started on a series of spasms but Sam didn't let go. Instead he held on to Dean stronger and firmer – pulling Dean so close to him until he felt their hearts beat together in complete harmony– and whatever would happen he wouldn't abandon Dean. No way!

Sam's tears – which he tried to hide so desperately before– rolled down his cheeks in an endless stream. If he could say something, he would tell everybody how much it hurt to feel Dean's muscles twitch and turn under his skin. He would tell Bobby, Jack, Kyle and Matt that it was no fun holding your brother while he's screaming and wailing in agony.

He wished he could tell somebody he had had enough of seeing Dean suffer like this. Sam really wished he could tell the Lord that he had had enough of the life they were in. If only he could trade places with Dean…if only…

To think of all the things he could not say or do, Sam cried out loud. He cried so sadly, Bobby and the Callahans almost break into tears.

"Oh God!! Oh God!!!" Sam wailed as Dean thrashed in his embrace. "God…"

'Please don't abandon us…'

TBC

* * *

a/n: Thanks to everyone for such wonderful reviews you took the time to write for the previous chapter and I'm so sorry for killing Dean then. Here, he's back! And I hope this chapter's not an anticlimax, I'll freak out if it was (whimpers). Oh yeah! I've posted a poll to survey on readers' preference towards future AU series on our boys and the Callahans, please check my profile and vote if you have the time or you could just mention it in the review. Okay, now that you've read the chapter, a review would be nice (puppy eyes). Love ya'!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: It's obvious. The boys are not mine, at least not in this universe.  
**Co-author**: My beloved bia1007  
**Beta**: PsiChic had done an amazing job!

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Sam took a sip from his cup and savored the warmth of tea streaming down his throat. Looking up, he intently studied Dean's limp figure, now lying on the bed, tucked in as many blankets as possible. The shivers had lessened, thanks to Kyle's green tea that Bobby forced down Dean's throat a little while ago. Dean was still too bluish for Sam's liking but at least he wasn't pale as death anymore.

But then it was too early to tell. Both Jack and Bobby had reminded him that the poison had severely flooded Dean's system and Dean was too weak to fight back. Still, both of the older hunters vowed to him that they'd find a cure no matter what it takes. Again Sam was grateful to not be alone in this.

Nothing sucked like Winchesters' luck, but Sam had to admit good fortune was on their side now – meeting the Callahans was a blessing and Sam couldn't be thankful enough. He would have never been able to endure this alone – seeing Dean fighting death and all. Sam might have lost his big brother for the second time and himself right with him!

Studying Dean's silent form, Sam saw that his big brother had lost a few pounds after his return from hell. If it was not for his bossy personality, people might have misinterpreted Dean being Sam's little brother and not the other way around. He was smaller than Sam, no doubt. But still Dean was in every respect a protective big brother, sometimes overdoing it – and most of the time the traits were too obvious, people wouldn't miss them.

Sam reached out and caressed Dean's fever damp hair. He sighed deeply – remembering how close he'd come to lose his big brother tonight more than once; when the pain struck right after he was resuscitated in the latest scary episode. As if Sam's prayers and pleas were finally answered, Dean's spasms eased. _Maybe God was looking out for them after all._

……………………………….

"_Oh God!" Sam cried, touching everyones' heart in the cabin. "Please don't abandon us…" his sorrow and pain were obvious in that whisper. _

"_I ask you for once…please have mercy on us!" He had never stopped believing even when God failed him and sent Dean to hell. Sam never stopped praying though he had lost so many in his life. His faith never faded albeit God's soldiers, the angels, were not what he expected them to be – they weren't angelic after all. Now, just for once he wished God would prove to him that He was looking out for them – that they were really His children. "Have mercy on us…God…"_

_Sam looked at Dean and cringed seeing his brother buckle violently as the spasms threatened to wreck his nerves. He was well aware that another series of these violent attacks would severely damage Dean's system and eliminate any hope for his survival. Even if Dean survived, he'd suffer from brain damage and damn it, Sam would lose his big brother forever then. _

"_God!!!" Sam wailed as Dean cried in agony. He tightened his embrace on Dean and laid his face on his big brother's chest, weeping. Sam chanted Dean's name and his pleas to God, his cheeks wet from tears that wouldn't stop. _

_Losing track of (the) time, Sam was unaware of how long he'd been crying and praying but suddenly Dean stopped arching and screaming in pain. He felt Dean's body going limp and his muscles relaxing. Dean's heartbeat had slowed down to a normal rate. Sam lifted his face and studied Dean's features. _

_Dean appeared to be sleeping. There was calmness evident and no trace of pain on his face. Amazingly the pain and the spasms had ceased and Dean was resting peacefully. Soft snores rather than moans and groans were heard from Dean now._

_Seeing Dean had finally got his rest, Sam smiled triumphantly. He quietly whispered into Dean's hair "Thank you God! Thank you…" as grateful tears streamed down his cheeks. God never really abandoned them after all. _

…………………………….

"I'm so sorry Dean…for being such a jerk." Sam whispered.

'_Are you nuts?'_

"What?"

Sam's eyes went wide. He looked around, found no one and returned his gaze to Dean's face. Dean eyes were closed, there was no sign he had woken from his slumber. So, no way he would be able to reply to Sam's apology. But he was sure it was Dean's voice ringing in his ears just now – assaulting him with the ever familiar teasing.

'_I'm the jerk remember? You're not.'_

There it was again. "Dean?" Sam palmed Dean's forehead and bowed towards his big brother's face. No. No sign of Dean coming around.

'_You're a bitch…Bitch.'_

Sam smiled. He knew Dean would always find a way to protect him, even in his deepest oblivion. Now – _Sam was unsure how Dean did it_ – Dean was protecting him from the sense of guilt threatening to drown him. Maybe it was a figment of his imagination – _maybe because_ _he missed Dean so badly, he was making it all up_ – but Sam was relieved; he was so relieved he felt lighter and healthier.

"Jerk." Sam tenderly replied as he rubbed Dean's brow with his thumb, trying to provide as much comfort and familiarity as possible to his brother. His effort was well worth it as Dean rewarded him with simple gestures – a slight tug of his lips and turning his head into Sam's direction – that made Sam's view hazy with unshed tears

"And you're calling me emo," Sam couldn't help but tease.

'_Hey! Learned from the best.'_

"Come on Dean, wake up…you're freaking me out."

"_Gotta' scare you once in a while lil' bro."_

"You're a jerk!"

"_Heard that before."_

Sam could hear Dean's sarcastic reply so clearly he almost laughed out loud. Deep inside, he knew they'd get through this. Dean would survive and they would be brothers again. He could hold on because Dean wouldn't ever give up – he was damn sure about that.

"Hey!"

The Winchesters' silent conversation was interrupted by a presence Sam had been unaware of, too engrossed with teasing Dean. So he practically jumped seeing Matt standing right beside him. It was Matt's strong hand on his arm keeping him on the chair.

"Hey Matt," Sam said, taking a deep breath.

Matt returned Sam's greeting with a slight smile before he settled down on the bed across Dean's. Sam shifted the chair so he would be facing Matt but at the same time not losing sight of his brother.

"How's Dean?" Matt asked as he fidgeted with the bedcover.

Sam shot Dean a quick glance and looked at Matt again. Matt was pretty much a youngster compared to the others in the cabin. The youngest Callahan really reminded him of himself when he got into hunting seriously after Stanford - _come to think of it, he only took hunting seriously after Jess's death, after Dad's deal with the yellow-eyed demon and the latest occasion was after Dean went to hell_. Then he was at the same age as Matt was now.

"He's fine for now," Sam sealed his assurance with the best smile he could manage.

Matt nodded, satisfied with Sam's reply which added to his own observation on Dean's condition. The oldest Winchester looked much better than a couple of hours ago. He was glad about that because he wouldn't have been able to recover from this loss himself.

When he witnessed Dean dying before his eyes he felt as something was ripped apart from him too. For an unknown reason he thought he would have lost someone so important. It was weird on how much he'd become attached to the brothers since they first met, though he never had the chance to really talk to any of the Winchesters. But he felt Sam's grief when Dean fight for his life, in terrible pain and shared Sam's horror and loneliness when he thought Dean was gone.

"That's good."

"Yeah," Sam couldn't agree more. He smiled as he caressed Dean's head lovingly. Then the room suddenly was too quiet and the silence felt eerie it sent a shudder down Sam's spine.

"How did it go with Jack and Bobby?" The older hunters were researching on the cure for the poison. With Bobby's knowledge and Jack's skills they should be successful.

"Still working," Matt didn't have the heart to tell Sam, Bobby's and Jack's two hours research so far had been fruitless. But the older men didn't give up. They were determined to save Dean; Matt was in awe.

Glancing at Matt, Sam sensed the youngest Callahan had something to say and he was having trouble starting the conversation.

"You okay?"

Concern laced Sam's tone, making it even harder for Matt to begin.

"Are you sick or something? I hope my fever is not the start of an epidemic," Sam tried mimicking the big brother Dean had always been. His brother always knew how to light a room with his charms, not to mention lightening one disturbed soul.

"Err…Sam," Matt began.

Sam waited patiently. He was not going anywhere, so time wasn't the issue here. He got all the time in the world.

"I'm sorry," Matt looked up to him through unkempt brown bangs – _now Sam knew why Dean found his hair annoying_ – and decided he was more interested in studying the floor. Sam swore he saw guilt and anguish in those blue eyes. Dean was so much better at this, he sucked at being a big brother.

"Sorry about what?" Sam couldn't think of anything that Matt could be guilty of.

"I let down my guard and caused Dean's close call to death."

Hearing that answer made Sam's breath hitched; not of anger but of sympathy. Matt's guilt-ridden answer sounded so familiar to him. Talking to the youngest Callahan made Sam think he was talking to a mirror, and he knew better than to say anything until Matt had enough.

"I shouldn't have left him…should have stayed here," Matt wearily rested his head in his hands and sighed. "If he…" he stopped and sobbed once – unable to say the word. "I don't think I will ever forgive myself." He was telling the truth. If Dean would die after that drowning in the lake, he would never recover from the guilt. He would carry the blame on his shoulders as long as he lived.

That was his cue to say something. Sam smiled sympathetically and shook his head.

"It never could be your fault Matt," he said honestly. "Dean was born a stubborn ass…nobody can stop him when he has his mind fixed on something." He hoped the explanation would help though Sam knew nothing he said would really ease Matt's feeling of guilt. How could he blame Matt for Dean's temporary death if he'd done worse before? Sam had caused Dean's close call to death and injuries so many times before he'd lost count.

"But still…I'm sorry."

"Okay!" Sam shrugged. He never would be able to imitate Dean; his big brother would always find a way to wipe out the angst and replace it with anger. That was Dean's way of bringing life back into a broken man. Sam however would just have to do it in his own way, with tenderness. "You're forgiven."

Matt shot him a disbelievingly look. "That's it? That simple?"

"As a matter of fact…yeah!" Sam winked. "Now Matt, you think can handle Dean for a moment or two? I need to go, nature's call." He stood up from the chair and quickly went to the door without waiting for Matt to agree.

"Bb…but, wait!" Matt was bewildered. "What if…" Sam was gone. He turned around and looked at Dean. The Winchester showed no sign of waking up soon. But he'd been wrong before. Dean was unpredictable.

"What if I failed again?" he asked himself before he sagged down to the chair and got lost in his thoughts.

……………………………

Sam walked into the kitchen where he found Kyle cooking dinner.

"I didn't know you're a good cook?" Sam said sitting down. His sudden appearance made Kyle jump.

"When you have no one cooking for you…you'd learn to be good in no time." Kyle smiled as he tossed the macaroni and put them aside in a bowl. Studying Sam's features, Kyle was happy to see the fever had finally broken and Sam was on his way to recovery. Sam even looked a lot calmer than hours ago. "Hope macaroni and cheese's okay with you."

"I'm fine with anything as long as it's edible." The aroma of melted cheese made him drool. "Wish you were this good while we were in Stanford," he said.

Kyle snorted. Then he remembered something. "Who's looking after Dean?"

"Matt's with him, no worries." Sam explained as he snitched a few macaroni from Kyle's bowl and popped them into his mouth. He'd been picking up Dean's appetite lately, making him more muscular – much to Dean's disapproval.

When Sam glanced at Kyle, wary that the cook might let off some steam for his stealing. Sam found Kyle giving him a thankful look. Sam had let Matt take care of Dean for a reason. "He has a sensitive heart doesn't he?"

"Yeah? Tell that to yourself." Kyle smirked. "You guys are the most sensitive men I've ever met." He started laughing. "Perhaps in an alternate universe your name is Samantha and Matt's is Matilda."

"Har har! Very funny Kyle!"

Luckily Dean was not there to add to the mocking. Dean and Kyle would make the best tag team in Big Brothers versus Little Brothers Mocking competition. Fortunately Sam had Matt on his side. Maybe they could win against the ever-macho big brothers with their most powerful weapon ever – the puppy dog eyes as Dean called it. Then again, he wished Dean was there. He even missed Dean's sarcasm and bossy attitudes.

"He went to see you to apologize, didn't he?"

Nobody knew Matt better than Kyle. When Dean stopped breathing after they got him out of the lake, Matt was heartbroken Kyle could see it in his eyes. He was thankful when Sam didn't blame Matt for what happened to Dean and trusted him to look after Dean again.

"Yeah! About letting down the guard thing."

Sam went to the sink, filled a glass with water and drank greedily. The coolness of the fluid was bliss. "He's so different from you…he's all gentle while you're a lot rougher."

"There's always a yin and yang in life dude."

Sam huffed.

_Yin and yang. _

_Black and white. _

_Dean and Sam. _

_Co-existing._

_One without the other - unthinkable!_

…………………………………

Matt was just about to put the newly wet washcloth on Dean's forehead when the oldest Winchester tossed his head from side to side and groaned uncomfortably. He licked his lips in an attempt to wet them and then he swallowed dryly. Even his saliva had dried.

Looking intently at the door, Matt thought that this would be the perfect moment for Sam to come in. Sam took a little too long for a quick trip to the bathroom. Then Matt's eyes fell on Dean again who was turning rigidly on the bed, seeking comfort. Dean was coming around and Sam's not here. What if Dean wanted Sam? What if Dean went frantic seeing no Sam in the room? The youngest Callahan began to get pretty anxious himself.

When Dean finally cracked his eyes open, Matt had practically turned into a statue. The green eyes were absorbing him like a sponge and he cringed with nervousness. This was their first meeting each other eye to eye. He didn't know what to expect.

"Water…" Dean's voice was raspy.

Matt scrambled to fill a glass with water from the pitcher on Dean's bedside table and helped Dean to sit up, He leaned Dean's back against his chest and gripped his shoulder, supporting him from lolling back to bed. Matt picked up the glass and held it to Dean's lips.

Then he saw the glass tremble in Dean's grasp. '_Damn!_'.

Dean, sensing water on his dried lips, started to gulp it down greedily.

"Whoa! Easy there dude!" Matt took the glass away and flinched at the sight of Dean trying to get it back. Matt didn't want Dean to choke on the water. "Slowly now" he persuaded him as he put the rim of the glass back to Dean's lips. Matt couldn't help but smile sympathetically when Dean followed his order, as if fearing he's going to lose the treat if he misbehaved.

When Dean had finally stopped drinking, Matt took the glass away and asked "Want more?"

Dean shook his head and regretted the motion instantly as his head pounded with the movement. He scrunched his face and twitched his nose hard to chase the throbbing away.

"Okay," Matt lowered Dean back to the bed and returned the glass to the bedside table. He stood up and headed for the door, intending to holler for Sam.

"Sam?"

The inquiry stopped Matt from stepping away. He turned around and saw Dean looking at him with weary eyes, red brimmed and with dark circles smudged around the sockets. The pain lingered on his features, evident from how Dean squinted at the light and frowned. Matt took the one syllable question as Dean asking of Sam's whereabouts.

"Who are you?"

Matt gulped nervously. It was like Dean had just learnt to speak and found asking questions was the best way to enhance his skill. "Nature called," Matt answered the first question and hoped Dean wouldn't remember he'd even asked the second one.

"Wuss." Dean smirked and coughed once. His cough sounded dry and Matt took that as a good sign. At least his lungs were not drowned in his own phlegm. Matt smiled a little. Yeah! Dean was a big brother, much like his own - annoying big brothers who could be the biggest bullies in the world, but still the best ones. "And you?"

Dean remembered which made Matt want to tip toe away. "I'm Matt."

"Hi Matt." Dean tugged his lips into a welcoming smile. Shit! Since when smiling hurt so badly? "I'm not dead…guess you're not the bad guy." Dean recoiled little hearing the stammer in his voice.

"Yeah!" Matt smiled edgily. _'I almost caused your death dude, how's that for a change?'_. Matt decided not to bring up the event at the lake. It wasn't a good time. If Dean were to punch him, he would run out of breath.

"Sam okay?"

Dean remembered the last time he was awake, Sam was coughing so badly he almost hacked out his lungs. The images after that were vague. He thought he saw Sam sobbing and then Sam crying out his name. Dean was not sure whether those were all his dreams or shattered pieces of his memories from his unconscious mind.

"He's nothing but kickin'." Matt assured so firmly. _Dean's_ _definitely the over protective big brother type_.

Dean nodded, trusting Matt already though he couldn't really remember who the kid was. All he knew was he heard Matt's voice in his deepest sleep and he recognized Matt's touch very well – manhandling him when he was sleeping. Yet, there was something familiar in those blue eyes looking down at him. It was as if he'd seen them somewhere before - in his previous life perhaps?

"How are you doing?" Matt's turn to ask.

"M'fine." It was the patented reply of a Winchester.

"Uhuh?" Matt was well aware of that pattern. It was one of the overly protective big brothers' favorite replies to show strength and authority to the overly worried little brothers. "I bet the ringing in your ears and the pounding in your head don't hurt a bit."

Dean was rubbing his temple when Matt made that cynical remark. He brought his hand down instantly and said "Geez, what are you? Sam's long lost twin?"

"You could say we're made from the same mold." Matt heaved his shoulders nonchalantly.

"What mold? Annoying sissy little brothers?" Dean cleared his throat and snorted. Somehow he found it funny teasing Matt.

Matt rolled his eyes. Okay! Dean was so Kyle. He watched as Dean snickered at his own joke. Luckily Kyle was not here to join Dean or else Matt would have to run a tantrum to win the situation. He hated that. It would be his last resort to win over his brother and father when everything else had failed.

Suddenly, Dean moaned painfully. His inside was burning and his head pounded mercilessly. He hoped that what he had drank would stay inside and (wouldn't) not come out in violent heaves. Puking hurt too damn much when you had nothing inside you. Dean bit his lips and secretly prayed the pain would ease.

"Hey? You okay?" Matt reached for Dean's shoulder and rubbed soothing circles on his biceps. Being the big brother he was, Dean surely was holding back the pain to camouflage his weakness in the presence of a little brother – regardless of whose one.

Amazingly, the gestures alleviated Dean's pain a little and he thanked God for giving little brothers one unique characteristic. They were good healers. "Yeah," he answered.

Matt smiled with sympathy and regret. Dean was way far from recovery and he knew well enough that the oldest Winchester was toiling to stay awake and take part in the conversation. He maybe was dying but Dean was so strong he won't let death win without fighting. Matt couldn't help but admire Dean's iron will. That was why he looked up to Kyle in the first place. From the bottom of his heart, Matt made a promise to do anything to make sure Dean would survive this ordeal. He owed him a life after all.

"Dean?" Sam appeared at the door. His face shone with relief and gratitude. The hazel eyes were brimmed with grateful tears.

"Owh…don't give me that Kodak look." Dean cringed.

Sam scampered to Dean's bed and took a seat on the bedside. He took Dean's hand into his and squeezed it hard. "Thank God you're awake."

"Still need that hand ya' know," Dean didn't really mean it anyway. It felt so good to be held like that. It felt as if it had been so long since he last met Sam – like he had just came back from the land of the dead.

Sam loosened his grip. "Sorry…I thought I was going to lose you."

"I'm here, in the flesh." Dean continued "Stop crying already!"

"How're you doing bro?" Maybe the idea of tolerating Dean's sarcastic remarks and annoying attitude could be reconsidered. Maybe instead of tolerating with them for one week, he'd just tolerate for a day. He couldn't tell though how happy he was to hear Dean's sarcasm live in action. Sam never really knew how much he missed Dean's annoying habits until he lost it for some time and found it again.

"Yeah! You guys were definitely made of the same mold." Dean shook his head in disbelief.

Sam was perplexed, unaware of what that was supposed to mean. He looked at Matt and the youngest hunter just rolled his eyes irately. So he guessed something had been going on between his brother and Matt before he came into the room.

"I see ya' idjit has finally decided to wake up," suddenly Bobby entered the room, followed by Jack and Kyle. The old hunter who the Winchesters had as the closest person to a father walked over to Dean's bedside. "You look like crap Tiger."

"Thanks Bobby." Dean didn't remember seeing Bobby the last time he was awake. So he bet he'd been out for quite some time now and that Sam had to call Bobby meant it had been pretty bad.

"You scared us shitless Dean." Bobby almost broke into tears. His old heart was quite sensitive lately. Dealing with the Winchesters had never been easy and thinking about how close he came into losing the boy again really freaked him out.

"Been doing that a lot lately." Dean felt guilty all of a sudden.

Bobby's lips curled into a tight smile. "Guess what…we found the cure," he announced but somehow he looked less excited.

Sam would have jumped if he didn't see the look on Bobby's face. Even Jack and Kyle were not looking too happy. "What is it Bobby?"

"The cure has a price…a very high price."

Sam gulped nervously. _Here we go again_.

TBC

* * *

a/n: Hey there! Sorry for the late update. My grandma passed away unexpectedly a week ago and this chapter got stuck because I'd been busy with the funeral, the grief and everything. As you can see, the pace in this one was quite slow. Just giving them boys some break. They needed it. Still I hoped it was good enough for you. Thanks for staying with me all the while, they'd been great help and support. Take care now. And oh! Review would always be craved. Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer**: It's obvious. The boys are not mine, but I'm theirs, always.  
**Co-author**: My beloved bia1007  
**Beta**: My awesome PsiChic

a/n: Hey there! I'm sorry the updates had taken so long. My life had been pretty busy lately with my sis's marriage. Not to mention I had a massive ultra big writer's block with this chapter. Luckily I had such dilligent co-author. Don't think I'ld be able to finish this chap without her. I'm sorry and really hoped the delay didn't turn your interest off. To redeem myself, I gave my heart all out in here and hoped you'd enjoy reading. Love ya!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

"_The cure has a price…a very high price." _

_Sam gulped nervously. Here we go again. _

"What price?"

"There's an ancient ritual written in Clavicula Salomonis that we could use to heal Dean." Jack came forward. He eyed Dean and prayed his thanks for the kid coming around. These last hours had been torture – not only for Sam, but for him as well. Meeting Dean's scrutinizing eyes, Jack retreated. He cleared his throat and continued "We figured this ritual might work."

"Clavicula Salomonis?" Matt didn't think he ever heard of the name before.

"Lesser Key of Solomon." Bobby tensely answered. "The devil's trap is from it."

"Oh…" was Sam's reply, obviously in awe of Bobby – the supernatural walking library most hunters would call him. "What was the ritual for?"

Bobby and Jack exchanged hesitant glances.

"The ritual is to conjure a Goetic demon, Buer." Jack explained. "This Buer fella' is the Great President of Hell, summoned among the witches often to bring health and to heal infirmities." He gulped nervously. As much as he desired for Dean's wellbeing, he was well aware they were risking their necks here.

The words demon and hell didn't sound appealing to both Winchesters – at least not to Dean.

"You mean in order to save Dean, we have to summon a demon?" Sam felt his blood run cold. "I smell something bad coming up."

"And you hit the jackpot." Bobby wished the ritual didn't involve conjuring a demon from hell. Every single demon out there was pursuing them now. Summoning one of them was like ringing their dinner bell. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away. _What is it with the Winchesters? Why couldn't God __grant__ them some peace?_

Knowing Bobby's attempt to hide his worry was going down the drain, Jack continued, "As clichéd as any demon summoning ritual might sound, evocating Buer demands an offering."

"What offering?" Matt blurted out before Sam even had the chance to blink. Even Jack was stunned at how eager his youngest seemed to be.

"Blood." Bobby answered gravely_. _"Human blood."

Matt swallowed dryly and studied Sam – waiting for at least one line of worry to appear on the youngest Winchester's forehead. But as he had anticipated, none showed. If the situation had not been so critical, Matt would have smiled.

"Take mine, as much as you need!" Sam offered without hesitation.

Hearing Sam's eager answer made something inside Kyle stir. When he first found out about the ritual, he'd been pessimistic. It sounded so grim, Kyle thought Sam would think twice about doing it. But reconsidering, Kyle wouldn't hesitate himself if it was Matt in Dean's place.

"That's not all Sam," Jack wearily shook his head.

"There's more?" Again Matt acted as Sam's spokesperson.

"When summoned, Buer is a powerful demon and to control him the conjurer must be more powerful than Buer himself." Bobby squeezed Sam's shoulder. When he had found the ritual, Bobby knew immediately who the opponent would be. Only Sam met all the conditions of the ritual. "And stronger means the conjurer has to be one with the purest of heart whose love for the sick is unconditional."

"There is also a risk." Jack didn't want to give the brothers false hope. "If anyhow the conjurer is not strong enough or he's weakening in the middle of the ritual the Buer will inflict harm on him and will try to bargain with the conjurer...and your soul will be at stake."

"Not to mention the demon then will run free and inflict harm on the one you're intending to save," Bobby continued. He had to be the one who broke the bad news. The boys seemed to handle bad news better when it came from him. "It's either you or Dean - or…we could lose you both."

Sam didn't pause for a second to respond.

"Whatever you need Bobby." Sam had volunteered himself even before Bobby and Jack explained the conditions of the ritual. "You need my blood, take it…you need my body, my soul, hell, I don't give a damn."

Bobby looked at Sam with solemn eyes. If anyone had a pure heart and an undivided love for anyone, it was these two brothers. They were willing to go to hell for each other. Bobby's heart ached knowing he might lose one of the boys or both if the ritual should fail.

"But I give a damn!"_._

Everyone had forgotten him. They looked at Dean who looked back with red-rimmed eyes and face flushed with fury.

"Dean?" Sam reached out but Dean swatted his hand away.

"To hell if you don't give a damn about your life, because I do!" Dean cried and was left breathless with the effort. "I'm not going to let you risk yourself for something this stupid!" The big brother's commanding tone was evident in his raspy voice.

"You know nothing good comes out from making a deal with a fuckin' demon." Dean had had enough of dealing with demons.

"Buer is different from the crossroad demon Dean." No one knew Dean better than Sam and Bobby. And he was well aware of what Dean was thinking. "We're not making a deal here…we are challenging him to a fight."

"What's so different about demons?!" There was no sign of surrender in Dean's tone. Despite of his labored breathing and movement, Dean was pretty determined not to lose this argument. "They are…demons, the armies of hell!" 40 years of experience down in the pit taught him well that there are no good sides of demons – making him both vengeful and terrified about them. He would fight them – his purpose to protect others, most of the time though he wished he just could avoid meeting any of them.

"Dean…this is the only chance we have." Sam tried begging. "Please…you're dying!" It was a little brother's plea.

"That doesn't mean you have to die with me, Sammy." Dean clutched at his chest. There was a terrible pounding building up in his ribcage. His lungs seemed to be running out of air. No! No! Not now. He knew if he'd give in now, Sam would win the argument. Dean turned to Bobby, looking with despair at the older hunter as if asking Bobby to back him up.

"Sam…" Bobby knew that look so well. He also knew Sam would never give in. But he'd try for Dean – to sooth him – though Bobby pretty much hoped Sam would win the argument. He loved both boys and couldn't afford to lose one of them, but if anyone was strong enough to fight Buer and save Dean, it would be Sam. Only Sam. Bobby couldn't think of anyone else.

"No Bobby!"

Bobby had expected this.

"Sammy…this is not worth you dying." Dean said near crying. The pain was getting intense and he was not sure he could keep it up much longer. His vision was blurring and he was losing his fight to stay conscious.

"What's not worth me dying? You?!"

Dean choked on his own breath.

"Dean, how could you think so lowly of yourself?" Sam had to let off some steam. He was tired, near total exhaustion. Not because of the lack of rest, but for watching his brother writhing in agony over the last few hours. He was scared to death, not of the risks he was willing to take, but of the possibility of losing Dean. "Did it ever occur to you that you are everything to me…that you are my world?"

"Didn't I tell you or show you enough how much you mean to me?" He would not give in this time. Never again.

"I need you Dean…as much as you needed me." His sorrow was so devastating, Sam felt like crying. Why was it so hard for Dean to realize how much his Sammy needed him? They were grown-ups now and Sam couldn't act like little Sammy anymore – who'd cry, pout or who'd put up a tantrum to show he needed his big brother by his side to assure him that everything was going to be okay.

"Or did you think I was not fit for the job? That I don't love you enough?" Frustration and hurt accompanied Sam's sobs. "You doubted that I love you more than anyone else in the world…that I'm not willing to give up everything just to have you coming back to me?"

Dean shook his head frantically. Thinking Sam would put something above him was the last thing that would cross Dean's mind – but Sam did put his vengeance against Lilith above him, and Ruby...oh God! His brother had kept secrets from him. Maybe Sam had his reasons – that maybe all this while Dean had refused to understand. They were both in pain, and Dean realized he was thinking only of his own pain, not considering a little bit Sam's side.

"No Sammy…I didn't mean it that way." Gasping for air, Dean blinked back the tears that were pooling in his eyes. He was unsure whether these were tears induced by the physical pain or simply tears of grief.

"Then what, Dean?" Sam was pushing hard. He would win this argument and if he didn't he would drug Dean to sleep. Nothing could stop him now. This time he would save his big brother. He would allow no angels and no crossroad bitch to play their part in saving Dean, and hopefully no more deals would be made in this rescue mission.

"I don't want you to die with me!"

"But I want to!!" Sam confirmed and Dean felt his lungs compressing. "I'll be at your side and die with you if that's the last thing I do…at least it is better than seeing you die and not be able to do anything about it."

Teary green eyes locked on hazel ones.

"I can't lose you Dean." Sam pled. "Not again."

Dean was speechless seeing tears streaming down his little brother's cheeks. He had never really realized how painful it was for Sam when he was not around. Not until now.

"Sammy…" Deancalled as he reached out for Sam, wanting to brush the tears away. His little brother needed comforting and he was determined to be a big brother again but a white hot pain seared up in his head, making Dean jerk away; banging his head to the wall violently, as if to scare the pain away. He groaned in agony and bit his lips to suppress a moan as he felt his body convulse. Dean cried, more of hating the fact Sam had to see him like this – fragile and needy – than of the pain itself.

Then again, maybe this time he should trust Sam - his brother would make everything better. Maybe for this one time, he should let Sam save him. This time he wished to be saved –his soul to be spared – because he still had a little brother to look out for and his whole life never could be worthless with Sammy around. Dean saw it now, that he was important – he meant something – to someone. And this someone was Sam.

"Dean!!" the younger men called out at the same time. Jack in a desperate attempt was pumping morphine into Dean's system and the drug worked its wonder. The convulsions stopped and Dean looked much more peaceful than before.

Sam grasped Dean's hand and felt his brother cling to him as if looking for a lifeline. His brother held him so tight, Sam felt himself shudder with worry. Dean clung to him for comfort and for reassurance when all the time they'd grown up, his big brother always had been the provider. Sam was glad - for once, Dean needed him. But he was anxious as well. What if he failed Dean?

"Hang in there bro," Sam whispered and he felt Dean's fingers curl around his palm. His brother had heard him. "We'll be okay…I promise." And Sam was glad he said that as Dean slowly edged away from consciousness.

"I believe you Sammy," were the last words slipping out Dean's mouth before he finally closed his eyes and fell into drug-induced oblivion.

The words sounded so different from those he'd heard after Dean's return from hell after Sam had apologized for not being the one who pulled Dean out of the pit. Then, when Dean said _"I believe you, Sammy,"_ Sam had felt his heart break. He interpreted it as Dean saying '_Yeah Sam! I knew it couldn't have been you who pulled me out'_. It felt like his brother never really trusted him of being capable to be his savior.

And Sam got his strength from those words of trust. He would never fail Dean. He'd make sure the ritual worked. He'd make sure both of them would come out safe. Sam grasped Dean's hand tighter and looked up to Bobby and Jack – somehow looking into the older men's eyes gave him comfort and assured him that they had his back covered. The youngest Winchester couldn't help but wonder how Dean and him had became so close to Jack and his boys in such a short time.

"Let's do it." His voice was firm and steady. He'd found his strength and he was not going to let go.

Only Sam never realized that the other men had found their strength in him.

……………………………….

"Is everything ready?" Bobby made a final round up.

Everything in the living room had been moved away, leaving the space eerily empty.

In the center of the room, on the wooden floor, a large circle was drawn with a smaller one within. Placed on top of the diagram was the Triangle of the Art, which Bobby and Jack said would be the place the demon would appear. The circle had many sacred names of God written in the inside border and in the center of the circle were the names of the Alpha and the Omega along with four hexagrams.

"The candles are set!" Kyle looked up as he lit a candle in the last pentagram. There were four pentagrams altogether, one in each corner of the circle. He stood up and studied the diagram that had taken his old man and Bobby almost half an hour to draw, and couldn't help feeling in awe. Across him, squatting on the floor, lighting the last candle, was Matt who looked as amazed as Kyle.

The Callahan boys mentally admitted that they were scared for two reasons. One, this was the first time they were going to witness a demon conjuring ritual. Usually any ritual they had encountered always involved banishing demons residing in human hosts. Tonight they were going to summon a demon straight from hell on purpose. Second, they feared the worst was going to happen to the Winchester boys. The slightest mistake or flaw could endanger Sam and Dean

"The altar's done." Sam called as he placed the Buer's sigil on the altar.

"Finished." Jack drew the last line of the protection circle around the couch where Dean was lying. The older Winchester was out for good – still oblivious to everything in his morphine-induced sleep. "Be strong son…" He whispered as he brushed Dean's forehead with his thumb. Caressing the boy's head, he silently prayed they are doing the right thing.

"Shall we start?" Bobby looked at everyone. No one responded to him, so he took it as a yes.

"What about the blood Bobby?" Sam stepped out of the circle, already feeling creepy though the ritual hasn't even started yet. As he walked towards Bobby, his eyes lingered on Dean – heart filled with hope to see his big brother back on his feet. Sam approached Bobby, at the same time rolling up his sleeve – ready to give his blood.

The older hunter eyed Sam from under his cap. "We need to fill this bowl." He took out a small bowl and cringed at the thought of it being filled with Sam's blood. "It doesn't have to be your blood you know?" He watched warily as Sam reached for the dagger.

"If not mine whose blood then?" Sam smiled tightly. He was about to slice his arm when a steadier hand gripped his. Before he even got the chance to retort, the dagger was taken away from his grasp. Then another hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Save your energy dude!" Kyle was standing next to him, smiling an honest to God smile. The auburn haired Callahan slightly squeezed his shoulder, making Sam's frantic heartbeats return to normal.

"Blood loss would tire you," Matt said with a wink. To Sam's horror, the youngest Callahan ran the blade across his arm, cutting it without a flinch. Sam was speechless as he watched Matt's blood drip into the bowl.

"Matt…" He was cut short when Matt handed the dagger to Kyle. Again Sam was petrified seeing the other Callahan slice his arm and bleed himself, letting the blood flow from the cut into the bowl. No pain was shown on the brothers' faces, making Sam wonder whether they were feeling the pain at all.

"What are you doing?!"

"Let's just say we want fair shares in this deal." Kyle looked up to Bobby and when the older man nodded, he pressed a washcloth on Matt's cut and another one on his own arm.

"You shouldn't have done that." Guilt washed over Sam. The bowl now was filled with blood, the Callahans' blood.

"Come on dude…don't start that pansy talk." Kyle elbowed Sam's side. "You should get ready to conjure that Buer guy."

"Yeah, and this is the best we can do to help." Matt smiled. "The rest's up to you Sam."

Matt was grateful he finally had the chance to make up to Dean and Sam for his failing and was even more thankful when Kyle agreed to help him. Kyle – who always had been so pessimistic towards whatever his little brother was about to do – had shockingly immediately agreed to Matt's plan to contribute for the ritual. His expectation had been entirely wrong; when he'd told Kyle of his plan, he thought Kyle would freak out completely and try to stop him. But as soon as Matt had finished telling him, Kyle nodded his agreement, saying "Just don't bleed yourself to death…we don't want your blood all over the floor and I don't want to be the one to clean it up."

"You're a jerk!" was Matt's way of saying thank you.

Looking at his sons, Jack's lips curled into a small smile. It was amazing to see his boys bonding with the Winchesters. If only they knew how close their fathers had been and the boys when they were young. Kyle and Sam apparently grew up together and had shared the same nursery. Dean on the other hand was the younger ones' little protector. To see them all together again brought back good memories. 'Wished Jenny was here to see this.' Jack wished all, Jenny, John and Mary were here to witness this.

Jack cleared his throat and called "Sam! Cm'here." He motioned for Sam to stand by the altar in the center of the circle. Sam obeyed and walked over to Jack. The oldest Callahan handed the shaggy haired Winchester the book of Solomon, opening the page with the conjuring spell.

"You know what to do?" Jack asked, pretty anxious himself. Sam was close enough being his son; he feared for the boy's safety – as much as he would fear for Matt's and Kyle's.

Sam nodded without looking up from the book.

"Whatever you do, don't let it bargain with you…and don't step out of the circle." Jack reminded and he emphasized it with a firm squeeze to Sam's shoulder.

"Okay." Hazel eyes peeked through the unruly brown bangs, and Jack thought he'd seen the little Sammy looking up to him all over again.

"Don't worry Sammy…everything's going to be fine." He assured and couldn't help being fatherly over the boy he used to regard as his own. May be he still did.

Sam was confused. Things were starting to get a bit strange with the Callahans. It was as if he had known them for so long – not just since Stanford, but long before that. Jack calling him Sammy one of the reasons he thought so. No one and he meant no one other than Dean ever called him Sammy and got away unscathed. Now Jack called him Sammy and he was okay with it. Sam made a mental note to get back to that later.

Jack gave him another reassuring squeeze and stepped out of the circle. The middle aged man moved into the other protection circle, joining Bobby and his sons. Now Sam was standing in the center of the Solomon Circle with the Key of Solomon book in his hand.

Sam took one long look at Dean and sighed deeply. Whatever would happen tonight, he was willing to do it– for Dean. Without thinking any further, Sam opened the Key of Solomon and lit the incenses on the altar. The essence of sandalwood, jasmine, and lavender filled the air. Life works in weird ways, to summon a demon – known for its hellish qualities – human offered sweet heavenly scents.

Taking a deep breath, as if it was going to be his last, Sam dropped the potion Bobby had mixed into the bowl of blood and started reciting the spell.

"_I evoke and conjure thee, O spirit Buer by the highest and supreme majesty that thou shall appear before me in the Solomon Triangle in a fair and comely shape. Thou shall obey me or thou shall forever suffer in torture and agony for ye defiance."_

He waited and nothing happened. Looking at his companions, Sam heaved his shoulders. As he began to repeat the spell, a cold wind swooshed through the door, bringing in dust and dried leaves. Sam shielded his eyes from the offending wind and got back to the spell.

"Sam…" Matt called, voice filled with tremors.

Sam looked at Matt and saw him pointing towards the Solomon triangle. Once his eyes fell upon the spot, Sam caught his breath. There in the triangle, a figure was materializing. It started with a cloud of murky black smoke and slowly formed a human figure.

Sam continued with the spell as he kept wary eyes on the figure.

"_In peace I welcome you, O spirit Buer, and in the name of the powerful virtue of the Most High, I command thee to stay within this triangle until thou art dismissed, to perform for me, to assist me, in the tasks that I put before thee."_

The smoke finally built up into a steady handsome middle aged man wearing a tux. Looking up to Sam, he smiled grimly.

"My my…who do we have here?" Buer clicked his tongue. "Sam Winchester, the son of John Winchester and the brother of Dean, _the_ Dean."

Sam flinched a little hearing how the demon addressed him, his father and Dean. Guess the Winchesters had gained popularity down there that all demons knew them so well. When he called upon a goetic demon, he never imagined it would be another ordinary demon that they encountered every day. He had done his research, and knew Buer was often portrayed as having the head of a lion and five goat legs surrounding his body. But Sam asked for it to appear in a dignified manner, so here was Buer, dressed much like a gentleman.

"What do you want?" The demon asked with a voice as loud as thunder.

"Heal my brother." Sam couldn't fight the hatred towards demon that forever resided in him. He might have worked with Ruby, but he never liked her anyway. He was basically using her.

Buer raised a brow, stretched his neck and glanced at Dean. "Well, well…seems to me Alistair was not doing a very good job." Again, the demon smirked. "You know, your brother was pretty popular down there…I have to admit, I did pay him a visit, it was fun…well, to me it was."

Sam bit his lips. His concentration was drifting off. He could strangle the demon right away. Sam was about to step off the circle when Bobby hollered his name out loud.

"Sam…he tries to distract you! Keep your head in the game!"

As if he was struck by lightning, Sam jolted up. Suddenly realizing he was losing it.

The demon that was ranked as president of hell studied Sam intently and snorted. "You Winchesters are just stubborn." He crackled grimly. "Your father never went off the rack…and my, he had guts! But your brother…40 years and he gave up."

"Who could stand being ripped apart, then to be restored only to be ripped apart…again and again." Being a true demon, Buer would never submit before tantalizing his opponent. "I bet your brother never really told you how he truly felt when he was down there." He wriggled his brows mischievously.

Sam swallowed back his anger that was fast building up in him.

"Oh yeah…he was protecting you." Not yet giving up on tricking Sam into stepping out of the circle, Buer added more insults to the injuries. "And did he ever tell you how much he missed you…I mean, he screamed your name every… single... second."

"Sam!! Sam!! Sammy!!!" Buer imitated Dean's voice in a way it made Sam shivers. It was like listening to Dean himself. "You should have listened to him…oh! I forgot!"

"Big brother Dean sacrificed himself for his little Sammy…and rotted in hell for 40 years!"

"You son of a…!" Sam was about to scram towards the demon when he heard a much familiar voice.

"Sammy! No!"

Sam turned around abruptly, studying the figure lying on the couch. Dean was awake!

"Dean!" Sam called.

"Stay...stay in there." Dean groaned.

"Ooh…touchy touchy." Buer teased. "Big brother Dean forever taking care of little Sammy."

"You heal him now!" Sam ordered. He couldn't take more of this. Dean was getting worse and he himself was losing it. The summoning was eating up his energy. He could feel his senses shutting off.

"And what will I get?"

"Your life!" Sam stared at the demon, eyes full of hatred and vengeance.

"_In the name of the Most High, I inflicted upon thee the torments and suffering for ye defiance against me. If thou shall not obey me, thou shalt be vanquished with thy fire of hell."_

Buer writhed uncomfortably and then wailed in agony as an invisible fire burnt him up.

"_Here I asked ye, will thou obey me?!" _

"Stop it! I'll do it!" Buer fell down to his knees. Nothing burned on him but the fire was there. It was evident through the smoke and steam lingering on his suit and skin.

"Now!" It had to be now, Sam was getting weaker by the minute.

The demon raised and started chanting. At the same time, Dean fell from the couch on the floor, trashing violently. His limbs flailed aimlessly in the air, his back jerking and arching in the most terrible manner, and his mouth spilled fresh blood.

"What have you done?!" Sam was ready to read the banishing spell.

"Sam, wait!" Kyle's yell stopped him.

Sam casted an observant glance on his brother. Dean had finally stopped trashing and now was sleeping peacefully. His chest moved in a steady rhythm. His skin was back to a healthier color and no longer that deadly dull shade of blue.

"Heh…Sam, are you strong enough to send me back?" Buer realized something Sam didn't.

"What?"

"Looks like you're losing it."

Instantly Sam felt something wet dripping from his nose. He ran a sleeved arm across his face and flinched at the sight of blood on the sleeve of his favorite hoodie. Suddenly, a loud ringing sounded in his ears. Sam doubled over, clutching at his ears - the book of Solomon falling to the floor.

"Oh God!!" He wailed painfully.

"Sam!!" His companions called for him desperately. From the corner of his eyes, Sam could see his friends shouting his name, begging him to get a hold of himself. But fatigue was overtaking him, making his vision blurry.

"Sorry Sam…God's not here to help." Buer was getting stronger. _Any second now_.

'Sorry Dean…I'm sorry…' Sam was exhausted of fighting. He desired for a rest badly. For once, he wanted to close his eyes and sleep. _Just this once_.

"_Sam…I believe you."_

The words were running like lightning running through his veins, sending shivers all over his body. Sam bolted upright – the pain and the agony were forgotten. Dean believed in him! Nothing would make him betray that trust.

"Dean believes in me!" Sam shouted, full spirited.

"_Thy job was done and thou shalt be sent back to where thou belong. Go in peace and return to your sphere of origin, O spirit Buer by the authority of the True God, I command thee to harm no one as thou depart."_

Luckily Sam had paid attention to the dismissal spell and had been able to memorize it.

Accompanied by a wail of regret, anger and sorrow, Beur dematerialized into a black cloud that swirled around in the triangle and disappeared like a puff of smoke.

"Go to hell you punk!" Sam hissed triumphantly before he made a face plant to the floor.

"Sam!!" was the last word he heard before darkness engulfed him completely.

"Dean…" was the last word from his lips_._

TBC

* * *

a/n: Thanks for reading! And please if you have the time, review and make me smile.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: The Winchester boys and Bobby – so not mine! Wish they were though.  
**Beta**: bia1007 and PsiChic (these girls rock!)

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Sam's eyes opened to narrow slits, almost closing again as they were burdened by drowsiness and his desire to succumb into an endless slumber once more. Then again, as his hazy mind cleared, memories registered so violently he was jolting up to a sitting position. Seeing Kyle squatting in front of him, face etched with worry and sorrow made Sam's heart beat so frantically he was practically gasping for air.

"Sam…" The sadness filling Kyle's voice made Sam's breath hitch.

"Dean!" Sam ignored the white hot pain searing his spine up to his head and staggered to his feet. A brutal dash of vertigo caused Sam to stumble. He almost made a face plant to the floor if it hadn't been for Kyle's steady grasp on his shoulders.

"Easy there Sam," Still, Kyle's voice was too mournful and sad.

Clutching his head, stifling the pounding at the back of his skull, Sam steadied himself. He felt like covering his ears and shielding his visions from words or sights that might break his heart. But he had to know. He needed to know if they made it. So he turned.

The sight awaiting him made his heart shatter. He felt every joint in his body giving in and his knees buckled under him.

There was Dean, on the floor, still, unmoving. And there was Bobby, sitting next to Dean, cradling his brother's head in his lap – the old man's eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Then, there was Jack, looking at him with a deeply sad look that said _'I'm sorry'_. Finally there was Matt. Oh God! The look on that kid's face explained everything. Everything that Sam didn't want to know.

Dean was dead. He couldn't save him. The ritual didn't work. Sam had lost his big brother, again.

He failed.

"Dean…" He moaned, pulling his knees to his body and burying his face into them. Sam started rocking, slow at first and faster as time passed. "Dean…" Both his mind and his lips chanted Dean's name, the name of the only person he ever truly believed in.

Sam was breaking inside.

After Dean died and went to hell, Sam made sure his heart hardened and was cold as stone – not opening to anyone again. His heart was so cold it would freeze anyone who tried to get in. Sam didn't want to ever feel love again, to be warmed with passion – not after Dean was gone.

But Sam was wrong, the coldest always were the most fragile. Heat shaped the glass, coldness would break it into pieces. Now Sam's heart was breaking into a thousand pieces and Sam knew he never could gather them anymore.

"Dean…" Sam sobbed into his hands.

"_Sam."_

"Dean…"

"_Sam."_

"Dean?" Sam must be hearing things. He thought he heard Dean calling to him. He looked up. His big brother was still there, unmoving on the floor.

"_Sam…" _

"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam cried sadly. "I failed you."

"Dean!!!" He wailed, touching everyone's heart.

"_Sammy!!" _

…………………………

"Sammy!!"

His eyes snapped open and Sam gasped desperately for air.

"Hey! Hey! Cool it."

The loved and familiar voice greeted him and the ever-comforting hand lay on his chest, grounding him. Sam breathed in deeply and looked around, finding soft green eyes looking down on him with pure concern.

"Dean?" Sam sat up, wondering what had happened. Instead of rocking back and forth in the Solomon circle, Sam was sitting on the floor next to the couch where Dean was lying. Dean on the other hand was very much alive, but with lines of worry and fear on his face.

"No…I'm Martha Stewart." Dean replied sarcastically. The fear on his face was replaced with relief at the blink of an eye. "Of course it's me, idiot," he snorted.

Sam's eyes scanned Dean's face wildly, looking confused and unbelieving. "You're alive?!"

"Duh?" Dean rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed, but in the end he smiled anyway.

"God! Dean!!" Unexpectedly, Sam yelped and threw himself towards Dean, pulling his brother into a huge bear hug. He held on so tight to his brother as if he never again wanted to let go.

"Uh…Sam," Dean panted. "N-need…air." He hissed but didn't take any effort to release himself from the hug.

"Oh…Sorry!" Sam did let go, but not entirely. He cupped Dean's face in his hands and studied his brother closely. "Oh God, Dean." He was thankful beyond words. A smile was all he could manage to show his gratitude.

Dean frowned, if Sam ever tried kissing him, he was so going to kick his butt.

"Yeah! Yeah! It's really me." Dean swatted Sam's hands away. Now it was getting too much. "Cut it off Sammy, you're freaking me out," he growled.

Sam seemed to be unaffected by Dean's words as he kept grinning from one ear to the other, like a little child who had just found the world's biggest treasure.

Dean shook his head in defeat, reached out a hand and gently rested it on top of Sam's head. Locking eyes, they looked at each other for a brisk moment, sharing a silent conversation and shied away almost at the same time.

The oldest Winchester cleared his throat, snickered and tousled Sam's hair without mercy while his little brother in fruitless attempts tried to bat away his invading hands.

"Stop it dude!" Sam caught his wrist and curled his fingers around it – holding it firm. To Dean the gesture felt so right – something genuine and sorely missed. "I'm not a baby anymore."

"Ouch! Sam, that hurts!" Dean winced. "Cos' the last time I remembered…you _are_ my baby brother." He winked and smiled seeing the blush on Sam's cheeks.

"Now would you please stop grinning like an idiot?" Dean flicked his finger to Sam's forehead, hitting him right between the brows with a thud.

"You're sick Dean!" Sam rebuked, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead with the back of his hand. The hit seemed to cause his brain to rock in his skull, making him sway a little.

"I'm sick? It's you who fainted like a girl."

Sam's fist reflexively found its way to Dean's shoulder.

Dean laughed.

Sam couldn't hide a smile as he heard Dean's laughter. It had been so long since Sam last heard Dean really laugh – the last time even before the Pukwudgies thing, maybe since he came back from hell. The situation between them had been so tense lately that laughter never found its way to loosen things.

"You even hit like a girl."

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered the word that had been waiting to come out for such a long time.

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

That was enough to tell both boys they were doing okay – at least for now.

"Now, first thing first…" Suddenly Dean turned dead serious. His face tensed. That tone in his big brother's voice had Sam listening as if they were on a hunt.

"What's for dinner?" Dean innocently asked as his eyes wandered around, perhaps looking for the kitchen. "I'm so friggin' starving I could eat a cow!"

"Dude?!" Sam almost jumped. His eyes were wide in amazement. He chuckled, almost disbelieving. But Dean would always be Dean. Come to think of it, he was starving too.

"You idjit! You'd just escaped from death and food is what you have in mind?" Bobby appeared out of nowhere and towered above them, smacking the top of Dean's head with his cap. A gesture both Winchesters recognized as one of endless affection of their old friend.

"What? I didn't eat anything since the last... God knows how many days…is it wrong to ask?" Dean growled, rubbed his sore head and tried to snatch the cap away – thinking of revenge. They played tug war for a moment or two before Dean finally gave up.

"You boys scared the crap out of me!" Bobby scratched his head before putting on his cap again. "I swear to God if you do that again, I'll kill you myself." His heart wouldn't be able to take it again. Earlier when Dean and Sam collapsed after the ritual Bobby thought he was going to lose them both. Fortunately he didn't have to go into another round of Tequila diet – _like he'd been indulging during Dean's absence_ – anytime soon; the last round had almost corroded him from the inside.

"Sorry Bobby…"

Bobby smiled. Sam was always the thoughtful one.

"You're getting old, old man."

And Dean was the smartass - the one he was accustomed to since forever.

Bobby rewarded the wiseass remark with another smack at the back of Dean's head. No more compassion for the sick. After all Dean were miles away from being sick. Another day of resting, eating and bantering with his little brother, he would be up and kicking some monsters' ass again. These boys, they had remarkable powers of healing.

"And you are the one making me old…ya' idjit!"

"I really need my head you know?" Dean pouted.

_Well, well! How often would you see Dean Winchester pouts? When you saw one, better start running because you would never be able to resist it_. It was as deadly as Sam's puppy-dog eyes. If Bobby didn't know better, he would have patted Dean's head and soothed him with comforting words.

"Aw! Stop being a crybaby!" Bobby growled instead. "You're breaking my heart."

"So Bobby…Is everything over?" Sam asked curiously. Dean looked healthier all right, but he was not going to take any chances. The last hours of watching his big brother struggle for survival had been the worst time of his life. It had felt a lot like watching Dean getting mauled by the hellhounds.

Bobby ran his eyes over Dean and smiled reassuringly. "Yeah! Seems like it…Dean vomited the poison and I think there's none left to invoke anymore danger." What was left of the sickness was a mild fever that they shouldn't worry too much about. A mild fever wouldn't stop Dean Winchester.

"Three days of adequate rest, food, and staying low should have him kicking again."

Sam nodded in agreement but Dean was not in favor of laying low.

"Three days? I'll die doing nothing for three days!"

"Well…you can try killing yourself as many time as you want," said Bobby, his eyes shot a menacing glare towards the oldest Winchester. "The thing is you're not going to make it against the five of us." He crossed his arms and stared at Dean between sharp piercing slits.

That stare caused Dean to back down. The sound in Bobby's voice was threatening enough even without the stare.

Sam laughed. So they were back to square one – back to the mild fever Dean was running on before the hunt. He was thankful he had Bobby and the Callahans for assistance now because Dean could be a handful when he was running a fever. But after what they went through for the previous days, Sam wouldn't think twice to tie Dean to the bed if he needed to. However, for now he was thankful Bobby was there to take charge for a change.

Watching Dean and Bobby argue about trivial matters warmed Sam's heart. He had Dean back and Bobby was there to offer assistance. There was nothing more he needed to call home. But then, thinking of home raised the question he'd been keeping inside.

"Bobby...have we ever met the Callahans before?"

Bobby looked sadly at Sam and Dean and sighed. "Your old man never told ya' huh?"

The Winchester boys exchanged curious glances. What else Dad had kept from them a secret?

"Dean…even you don't remember?"

"What?" Dean tried checking his memory deposit box, but he couldn't quite make it all out.

Bobby sighed for the umpteenth time. This John Winchester! If he was alive, Bobby would have knocked him out for good for trying to keep his sons away from people they could call family. Or maybe it was the best thing to do, seeing that Jack himself had never tried reaching the boys that he used to call sons. Perhaps Bobby could take a swing at Jack right now.

Darn stubborn assholes! They just didn't know how stupid they had been.

…………………………….

Matt looked up through his bangs when Kyle hissed again.

"You know what…when you were asked to cut your arm to bleed, it meant a mere scratch," Matt started. "It didn't mean cutting a vein and have yourself bleeding to death!" He dabbed the second washcloth on Kyle's cut when the first one was already smeared with blood.

"Aww man! You're such a friggin' drama queen!" Kyle frowned. A cut that refused to stop bleeding and he had Matt freaking out, thinking he might have cut a vein. "Just stitch it up already."

"Oww!" Kyled yelped when Matt pressed on his wound a little too hard.

Matt smirked. "Now who's the drama queen?"

Kyle shot Matt his deadliest glare; his little brother could be a menace sometimes. When Matt reached for the stitching kit however, Kyle frowned. He hated being patched up as much as he hated beer.

It was not he never tried drinking some. Even Matt drank beer and to think his little brother was tougher than him made him crazy. But a single drop was enough to have his stomach doing violent flips. The last time he tried, he ended being in bed for two days – not eating and not drinking because his tummy refused to keep it down. It was like some kind of allergy or something. So when Matt started working on the stitching work, he washed down a bottle of Gatorade instead to keep his head clear of the stitching work.

Matt watched as Kyle emptied the bottle of Gatorade and shook his head. "You know…I'd never understand your allergy to beer." He pulled the thread, finished one stitch and worked on three more. "And to think you love Gatorade makes it even harder."

"You don't have to." Kyle winced at the piercing pain on his arm as Matt pulled the thread, abusing his already sensitive breached skin. At least Matt was gentle and his stitch would barely leave a scar. Compared to their Dad, Matt was a much much better nurse.

Glancing up to get a quick look at Kyle, Matt saw Kyle's face furrowed with pain lines. "Sorry dude…for dragging you into this."

Kyle was a typical big brother, bossy, hardheaded and stoic. But he despised getting himself patched up. Every time Matt stitched his brother up he could feel him tense and most times it made the work harder. The irony was that it always was Kyle who received the most patching up and Matt was the one doing it for him.

"Are we going to start that pansy talk again?" Kyle growled, unhappy to be dragged into sissy talk when he was already having the worst time of the day.

Matt ignored the sarcasm and continued "You really didn't have to do that in the first place."

"Hey…it's done! No point of turning back now." Kyle reminded, in case Matt had forgotten how he'd acquired the cut to begin with.

"Yeah…but still…" Matt tied a knot – putting an end to his brother's torment and completed his work by putting gauze over the stitch work. "You didn't have to."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "And let you have all the fun?" He studied the patching work and nodded with satisfaction. "No way lil' bro!"

"Thanks dude!" Matt smiled.

That was Kyle, his big brother. Heart to heart talk gave him the creeps and he would do anything to avoid being stuck in it. It was not because he hated it, but he couldn't stand the emotion that might stir in him. Kyle might be hardheaded but he was a real softie inside.

"You better stop being sissy or I'll knock you out for good."

Threat. It was Kyle's defense mechanism against little brother's emo-attack.

"Try me dude!" Matt punched Kyle's shoulder and grinned when the older Callahan shot him a glare. "You know I can take you out, always…" Kyle was really a better fighter but when he fought Matt, he would always lose. And Matt was aware of that. He was his brother's weakness.

Kyle groaned irritably. He could never prevail over his little brother. Not that he couldn't, it was just he never allowed that to happen. Only sometimes when his brother's life was at stake and him winning was the only thing which could save Matt he would fight his brother till he dropped.

"Are you boys done?" Jack came in from the back door and headed for the kitchen table, where his boys were sitting.

"Yes sir!" The response came out reflexively. There was worry in his sons' voices though.

Jack looked down to Kyle's arm and then to the perfectly organized suturing kit on the table. Matt had the skill of doing patching jobs without making any mess – something Kyle and him would never be able to do. If Matt was the one who needed patching, both him and his eldest would make a mess out of everything and Matt would be the one cleaning things up when he felt better.

Matt was so much like Jenny - the peacekeeper of the house. Kyle? That kid could be stubborn. Jack often wondered where he got his traits from. Kyle was headstrong but Jack could always count on him in any situation. Rationality always won out over his heart.

His sons had different natures but when they were together they made a perfect match - much like the Winchester boys, much like him and were two different men but shared one soul. Jack was glad they still had each other - Matt and Kyle, Sam and Dean. He on the other hand had lost the other part of his soul and he was sick at heart he couldn't save him. The day he found out that John was dead, he had almost lost himself but his sons kept him going.

"Dad…" Matt called hesitantly.

The way Kyle was rolling his eyes told Jack Matt was going to start his much favored heart to heart talk in a matter of a second.

"Good job sons." Jack stopped it before it could happen. He couldn't stand that kind of talk. It gave him the creeps. _And he wondered where Kyle got his attitude_. "Now can you start working on the dinner? I'm starving!"

"I'll get right into it!"

Kyle stood and went to the fridge – thankful that Matt didn't have the chance to start another round of girly talk. _Nice job dad!_ He knew there was still some roast left, may be they could have that tonight with mashed potato. Everyone was starving he bet and to think they had a lot of guests tonight, he would have to cook bigger portions. They would be having a big dinner – a celebration for a job well done.

Matt pouted. He knew the trick so well.

Jack sniggered as he patted Matt's shoulder. "I'm proud of you boy." He mumbled, almost whispering. When Matt beamed, Jack flashed him a bright smile.

"Need any help?"

The voice at their kitchen door had the Callahans turning their heads almost at the same time. Bobby was standing by the doorway, grinning.

"Well, we could use some of your infamous brown gravy for a start." Jack grinned back. Bobby had always been a good cook. If he didn't turn into hunting, Jack would have encouraged him to start a cuisine business.

Bobby rolled up his sleeves and joined Kyle in the kitchen. He hadn't had the chance to get to know the Callahan boys. So maybe this was the perfect time to start learning about them. The last time he saw them, Kyle was only four and Matt was merely a toddler. He bet they didn't even remember him.

Looking up at the door, Jack asked "Bobby, the boys…" and stopped halfway, hoping Bobby got what he meant.

"They were up," Bobby answered knowingly. "And they're okay."

Jack sighed with relief. He was still contemplating though. The urge to go out and meet the kids were so tempting but he the fear and worries whether the boys were able to accept him was holding him back.

Kyle looked at his Dad and saw the doubt on his father's face. He might not know what really happened but he knew for sure the Winchester boys meant a lot to Jack. He had a feeling they meant a lot to him to, but he was unsure how it could possibly be.

"You know Dad I think we've got it covered here in the kitchen." Kyle said without turning his head to look at his old man.

Jack stared at Kyle's back for a while and snorted. He looked down to Matt who watched him with confusion. Matt might be smart but Kyle was smarter in his unique way. He tugged at the black leather strips around his younger one's wrist playfully, thought about the matching strips on Kyle's wrists and made his decision. He remembered seeing the same strips on the Winchesters and to see how the boys valued the black leather strips made him know for sure.

Shaking his head, Jack smiled, ruffled Matt's hair and went out to meet John's boys – keeping in mind to get back to his own boys later. They had the right to know the truth as well. Maybe not everything but they needed to know what John Winchester really meant to him and he would let Kyle and Matt decide what the Winchester boys would mean to them.

'_Help me get our boys back together John.'_ Jack silently prayed as he stepped into the living room, where Dean and Sam were waiting for him.

TBC

* * *

a/n: Hope you'd like this chapter. Since everything went back to normal, I thought I better slow down. The next chapter is going to be the last one (I hope). Thank you for staying with me until now. Now, if you liked this chap, let me know by leaving a review. Love ya!


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Winchester boys and Bobby – so not mine! Wish they were though.  
Co-author: bia1007

a/n: Sorry that the story took forever to be updated. Anyway, thanks for sticking to this story, for the wonderful reviews, and of course for the alert and favorites. You guys rock!!

* * *

**Chapter 14**

"Dean…?"

Dean didn't like the sound of that. Sam sounded needy and demanding, and he was in no mood of tolerating a bitchy face, not now. He slung one arm across his eyes, shielding them from the offending light and from the infamous puppy dog eyes – he knew he could never win over those hazel eyes if Sam decided to use them against him.

"Hmm…" He answered anyway.

"What did Bobby mean when he asked you if you remember?" Sam tilted to his side, propping on one bent elbow. "What is it that you were supposed to remember?" He asked looking up to his brother suspiciously.

"I really don't remember…" came out raspy from Dean's mouth.

"Jack…" Sam continued, not willing to give up just yet. It was in his nature to share his thoughts. Dean was just lucky to be the one he was going to share everything with. "He looked familiar…you think we'd met him somewhere?"

"Not sure," was what Dean breathed out, just as Sam had anticipated.

"And Bobby seems to know him so well." Reasoning was one of Sam Winchester's skill and perhaps one of his weapons against a stubborn big brother.

"He knows everyone…" Dean reasoned back. Well, Sam had learnt from the best. An apple didn't fall far from the tree.

All the time he was looking at Dean, his brother never once looked back at him. Sam realized it immediately. The wall was coming down.

Sam was not going to give him any chances. He needed answers and he wanted them now! "Dean!!" Sam tugged at Dean's arm and cringed at the sound of his voice. Sam Winchester was whining to get attention.

"What?!" Dean lifted his arm – green eyes shooting a deadly glare towards his little brother. The glare however couldn't stop Sam's adrenalin rush.

"At least you could pretend that you cared!" There was no anger in his tone but enough annoyance to cause Dean feeling guilty for a moment. "He'd helped us for God's sake!"

"Seriously Sam?" Only now Dean was looking at him, face distorted with disbelief. "Is there anyone in the world that you don't want to be related with?" Grunting with dismay, Dean rolled to his side, his back to Sam.

Sam raised his arms in defeat and let them fall. "Geez! You're unbelievable!"

"No…I'm just beat." Dean said gravely.

For a moment there Sam thought his big brother was telling the truth, that he really was exhausted and needed to rest. But on second thought this was Dean Winchester he was dealing with. Dean Winchester never admitted to be tired unless he was hiding something.

"No Dean…you know something's going on." Sam insisted.

Sighing resignedly, Dean rolled back towards Sam and studied his brother's face. Sam was glaring with such fervor he couldn't help but snort in amusement. Suddenly Sam looked so much like the five year old Sammy who would never give up asking until his brother gave in to his curiosity.

"What?" Seeing his brother snorting with glee after he lashed out was not a comforting thought. Blood was rushing to his face.

"If anyone's unbelievable, it's you Sam." Dean chuckled. It was funny how he would always succumb to his brother though he tried hard not to.

Sam pouted and that made Dean burst into a laughing fit.

"I swear you should've been born a girl, Sammy!" Dean laughed and earned a punch on the shoulder, hard enough it felt like an ache

"That's not what you'd have said some years ago Dean."

The gruff voice almost made Dean and Sam jump. It sounded so familiar they almost thought 'he' was there with them. For a moment there their hearts skipped a beat. Turning into the direction of the voice, they found Jack walking towards them – tall and sturdy. He looked a lot like…John.

Sam shook his head, shaking the image away. He had no idea why he was seeing John in Jack. Jack maybe was similar to the father John had been, but he didn't resemble John so much that Sam saw his father in him, or did he? Glancing at his brother, Sam didn't quite understand what he was seeing on Dean's face. Was it recognition?

"Hey Jack!" was all Sam could manage in his near stupor.

Jack replied with a slight tilt of his head and a tight smile. Approaching slowly, his steps seemed to be hesitant.

Sam threw a curious glance at Dean and saw his brother sitting up hastily, as if trying to flee from the scene. Dean was trying his best not to look at Jack's face as the guy approached them. His big brother's face was grim and his jaw tight. Something was bothering Dean, Sam was sure of it, and it had something to do with Jack.

"You boys okay?" Jack sagged down on the couch across Dean, all the time fixing his eyes on Sam and avoiding Dean's eyes.

"Yeah, peachy." Sam raised one thumb and winked. "Thanks to you." Sam couldn't ever thank the Callahans enough. They had been with him when he was breaking down – offering comfort and pillars of support. Jack was the one who found Dean in the lake. Dean would be dead if not for him.

"You did all the work…We were just lending a helping hand."

Jack cleared his throat. When he came in from the kitchen, he thought Bobby already had broken the news to the boys. But from the look of it, Bobby hadn't told them anything. Shit, Bobby! He wished Bobby had done that for him, saving him from the extreme fury or emotional outbreak that were expected from both Winchesters.

Now he hoped one of the boys would start asking him questions because he didn't know where to start.

"Jack," and his wish was granted. The youngest Winchester had always been the most curious. Even when he was just a baby, he'd been curious. "You said you know our dad…how?"

The question was left unattended when Dean suddenly looked up and shot Jack a deadly glare. In a bleak voice, he said "Was that all that you told him…that you know our father?!" The look on Dean's face showed total anger and disappointment. "That's it?"

Jack was taken aback. He remembered! All this time he remembered. And they – _he and John_ – thought they were so good at keeping secrets. Fidgeting with his fingers, Jack tried to respond "I…I'm…"

"What?! You're sorry?" Dean grunted. "After all these years, you're just going to say you're sorry?!" His eyes were hot and his vision started to blur. He blinked away the tears, unwilling to expose the dejection he was feeling.

Sam, who was sitting on the floor in between the two older men suddenly felt estranged. As if he was trapped in a world unknown to him. He had never seen so much sorrow in Dean's face – at least not after Dad's death. And Jack, Jack was cowering in his seat, much like someone who had committed the biggest crime of his life.

Sam however was lost.

"You and dad, you guys are selfish!" Dean continued, uncaring to stop. "You think of nothing but yourself," he accused harshly.

Jack felt the words stabbed his heart, like it stopped pumping blood.

"All these time…you shut us out! You made us strangers…hell! You made me a stranger!" He was losing it. All those pain from the estrangement from people he could call family, of keeping everything to himself, of pretending that he didn't have the slightest clue, was all coming out in a violent rush and he was not able to stop it. "I thought you were different…but no, you're just like him…just like dad."

Dean stood up. "You guys never even thought of me or Sammy or your sons…the things I had to keep from Sammy…the pain I had to endure when he longed for Jenny, for Kyle, when he cried out their names in his sleep, when I had to tell him that they were all in his imagination, not real!" He rubbed a hand across his face, smearing the unshed tears with his palm. "You made us family only to make us strangers in the end," and he fell back to the couch again, burying his face in his hands. After a while Dean looked up, his eyes puffy and red.

"And dad…oh my God! Dad kept everything to himself till the end!" Dean mumbled. He was engulfed in a feeling he couldn't really comprehend. "That friggin' coward!"

He didn't see it coming and neither did Sam. Dean didn't see it when Jack leapt up from the couch, lurched towards him and punched him square on the face. The only thing he registered was his face felt numb, what later turned into a sharp stinging pain. Rubbing his cheek, he swallowed the copper taste of blood oozing from a scratch inside his cheek.

"Don't you say that! Don't you dare say that!!" Jack's voice thundered above them. His fingers were still curled in a shaky fist. His face showed nothing but rage.

"You think we never felt the pain?" Jack's voice was hoarse, filled with sadness "How did you think we felt? Yes! We're stupid…stupid enough to shut off ourselves from each other, but that doesn't mean we stopped loving each other…we're brothers for God's sake!"

Sam shot up to his feet. His breathing was frantic as if he had just acquired an asthma attack. Listening to Dean was hurtful enough, the things he didn't know, and now, "Brothers?"

"What?!" Looking up to Sam and then to Jack between slits, Dean asked "You and our Dad… were brothers?!" His voice was croaky. Something was blocking his airway, a big lump that couldn't be washed down. The revelation was shocking him and Dean didn't know how to get himself back together.

"How could that possibly be?" Sam's eyes ran over Jack's face wildly. "Dad never said anything about him having a brother…and your name is not even Winchester…What the heck?" and Sam almost blacked out because of sheer shock. He felt a sudden wave of vertigo that had him staggering like he was drunk. "You're kidding right?!" He could taste the bile filling his mouth and Sam fought hard to keep it down.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't mean everything to be revealed this way. It was too harsh, even for him. "Sit down son…before you fall down." He waved at Sam.

He would like to retort, to say no but Sam flopped down to the couch next to his brother instead - like a log, stiff and hard. It was Dean's grip on his arm that grounded him, that made his breathing going back to normal.

Jack sighed "Guess I have a lot of explaining to do," and sagged to the couch. He bent over, elbows on his knees, and rubbed a callused hand to his face.

"Start now." Dean said coldly. "We're not going anywhere."

…………………….

"Kyle."

Kyle turned around, shooting his little brother a questioning look.

"Do you think the Winchesters are somehow related to us?"

Unsure of how to answer his brother, Kyle returned to his task at hand. The question had been hovering over him for quite some time now. When he first met Sam at Stanford he was immediately attached to the youngest Winchester, not only because he saw Matt in him but there was something familiar about Sam that he couldn't put his finger on. Now, seeing Dean, he was having the same feeling all over again. And his father above all, was acting strange in the presence of the Winchesters.

Matt didn't miss the drastic changes in Kyle's features. He saw how his brother was squaring his shoulder, going rigid all of a sudden. "Kyle?" Matt relentlessly called for his brother.

"I don't know Matt! Stop asking me!" Kyle retorted, more to himself than to Matt.

Matt glowered. Fine! If Kyle was not going to share, he was not going to be friendly either.

All the time the interrogation was taking place Bobby had kept his mouth shut. But his mind was screaming curses. Not at the kids, but at their old men. They were the one who were the jackasses, but it was their sons who had to pay for the consequences.

Jack better started to mend things or Bobby was going to start putting rewards on his head or worse, bullets.

…………………………

Sometimes, the truth should be left untold because it hurt too damn much. But people had no choice but to dig for it to survive the reality they were living in. Jack would find out today how much it hurt to tell the truth.

Taking a deep breath, Jack started "Your father and I, we have the same mom…" That explained the different family names. "Our mom remarried after John's dad died and it turned out that my dad was not much of a father." He ran a weary hand through his hair, trying hard to keep the memories of the beating and the abuse locked somewhere in his conscious mind.

"And mom…didn't help much," was blurted in between sobs. "John was my keeper, my guardian, my protector…he was always there for me, my world." Suddenly everything was coming back to him and Jack couldn't help but let loneliness seep in. Things he'd done two decades ago were real stupid, done out of sheer foolishness. Damn! Both of them were morons, the biggest ever.

"When we're old enough…we ran and never came back."

Sam swallowed. So running away was a family tradition after all.

"We kept our relation a secret…just to be safe, so that no one would suspect that we were on the run." Jack leant back to the couch. "We told everyone we're good friends going on a road trip and they bought our story because of the different family names."

Looking at his big brother, Sam realized how quiet and rigid Dean had become. He seemed to be listening, but Sam knew better. His features were tense and his lips were tight. Dean had so many things running in his mind and some of them might not be cherry.

"Then…we arrived in Lawrence, and that's where we met Mary, the love of John's life." Jack smiled as Mary's face flashed before his eyes. He was happy John finally found his happiness in Mary – at least his life didn't revolve only on keeping his little brother safe from harm. "Then we both served Uncle Sam…and when we're back, your Dad proposed to your mom and I met Jenny at their wedding." At least they still had some good memories.

"Only the people closest to us knew that we are brothers…your mom, my wife," was told with a smile carved on Jack's lips. "Then" - and with this the smile vanished – "there was the fire and Mary…. Since then, John was barely the same person anymore…but he was still the big brother I'd known all my life." Every single second of his past flashed before him and all were so vivid as if they had only happened yesterday.

"So what secluded you from each other?" Sam found the guts to ask without throwing up. The truth was shocking he thought he was going to pass out anytime soon. What people said about the truth being painful…yeah! They were right!

His eyes on Sam, Jack gave the boy a pleading look and murmured "That is one thing son I beg you not to ask me…" because he couldn't stand the unbearable pain that threatened to pierce that one truth. He took two decades to suck up the pain and to forget, he was not going to start bringing it all up again.

"What have I done you hated me that much?" Dean asked all of a sudden.

Sam shot a quizzical glare at Dean. There was so much hurt in Dean's eyes and it hurt him more that he couldn't figure out what was hurting his big brother.

"Excuse me?" Jack couldn't make out Dean's words. "Dean, I never could hate you."

Dean snorted. "Then why you shut me off?"

Jack inhaled a deep breath. He knew that one would come out sooner or later.

Dean put a hand to his chest, where his heart was thumping viciously. "If you never hated me…why did you ask me to leave?"

"Sam…can you leave us alone for a while?" Jack requested, as gentle as he could, fearing one harsh word would imply an unwanted impression on the youngest Winchester – one thing he didn't need right now was a hurt youngest son. "I need to talk to your brother."

Sam gave Dean a sidelong glance, unsure whether he should leave. He waited for Dean to give him a signal, to ask him to stay. But Dean nodded slightly, agreeing with Jack. Sam's heart ached – feeling alone all of a sudden. However, when Dean gave his hand a slight squeeze, Sam knew. His brother was trying to protect him – not from any harm, but from his emotional outbreak.

He had always looked up to his big brother as his hero. To him, Dean was the strongest and the bravest man in this world. Maybe that was the thing Dean was trying to protect – his image as the awesome big brother in his little brother's eyes. '_Dean, you're such a fool. Though I look up to you, though I adore your strength, I am aware you are still human._' But Sam decided to let it be for now.

Letting his shoulders drop, Sam rose up to his feet. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need me," he murmured before shuffling away hesitantly towards the kitchen. Giving his brother one last look, one last hope that Dean would call him to sit down, Sam released a deep breath when he saw Dean didn't even turn in his direction. Dean was not going to call…his stoic big brother had made his decision.

But it occurred to Sam that he didn't want to stay behind himself. After what he had found out, he was not sure he would be willing to listen to more. It was too much revelation for one night. He was not ready yet for another painful truth – perhaps later, but not now.

…………………………..

Jack raised his gaze to Dean and sighed seeing the young man was avoiding his eyes. He would give anything to have Dean look at him with the same loving eyes he had for Jack when he was his Deannie. But he knew it could never happen, at least not for the time being. The kid's eyes now were filled with frustration and anger of being failed by people he used to call family.

Dean shouldn't be blamed for feeling this way. He had the right to be angry for being the victim of his old men's foolishness. How could he understand what they had been through? He was just six when that 'thing' happened between him and John.

"How long did you know?" Jack started the conversation awkwardly.

"The first time I saw you," was uttered with a slight tremor.

Biting his lips hard, Jack nodded absentmindedly. Deep inside he thanked Dean for not lashing everything out the moment they met or else things would have gotten worse beyond repair.

"Son…"

Jack was stopped dead at his track when Dean put up a hand. "No!" He said, shaking his head frantically. "Don't!" Dean was not ready to be called son again – not yet. It was not easy to simply forgive and forget.

Seeing the gesture made Jack's heart skip a beat. There was a big lump in his chest, choking him, making it hard for him to breathe. He blinked back tears before he finally said "I'm really sorry Dean…I am."

Dean didn't say a word and the silence was killing Jack.

"I would give anything to turn back time…to correct what I've, 'we' have done wrong ." Jack continued. "I am selfish, God! I know I am…but what was done is done and I couldn't do anything to change it." There was no use for apologies. No sorry could mend the young man's broken heart.

"I'm sorry that you, Sammy, Kyle and Matt were punished for our mistakes." Jack didn't even know what he was saying. "My brother and me…we're two stubborn asses, idiots, and look what happened to us?" He realized he and John were guilty for two sins – of alienating each other and the boys, and of keeping their family ties a secret. What was more sinful than denying their sons' right to have a family?

But Jack was aware he sinned more towards Dean. He had ripped away the kid's rights as his godson. He broke the promises he made when Dean was born – the promise to protect him, to always look out for him and to love him.

"I was too furious of your dad…I was not thinking straight back then." Jack rubbed his neck, feeling achy all over all of a sudden. The fatigue and the anxiety of the last two days – watching his godson fighting death – were all coming back to him. "When I realized my mistake…I was too chicken to make things right."

"One call would have changed everything…" Dean murmured. The loss he felt when Jack abandoned him was so deep it felt like it was yesterday. When mom died, dad was not himself anymore. His old man was obsessed and lost in his own world of revenge. Dean was left to deal with his own pain and suffering until he shared it with his uncle Jackie. Only then he felt like a kid again. So when Jack dismissed him from his life, his world was torn to shreds. "I waited for you to call."

The words pierced into Jack like knives. "I tried…but I couldn't." He sobbed. "God knows how hard I tried."

"When Dad died…you were not there, and you said you are brothers." Dean accused.

"And I still haven't forgiven myself." To have John's death being used against him made Jack feel like puking. He took years to get over the fact he was not able to save John, that he was not there when John died, that he didn't had the chance to tell his big brother that he loved him despite the things happened between the two of them.

"What happened between the two of you that you weren't able to forgive him at all?" Dean asked, he tried to understand – he truly did. But he just couldn't. "He _was_ your brother," and Dean cringed at his choice of words.

"He still is." Jack corrected. Nothing could tear him apart from his brother, not even death. They might have parted into separate ways, but deep inside they had never forgotten that they were brothers. Blood after all was thicker than water.

Jack inhaled deeply and let out a tired sigh. "What happened then is best to be left untold…we were both fools, not thinking at all and lost to our own fury and vengeance."

Finally Dean's eyes fell on Jack, looking at him so intensely Jack had to retreat. The older man cleared his throat and said "I know it's not easy…but give me one last chance to make things right, to redeem myself and your Dad, my brother."

"It's not easy to simply forgive and forget."

"I'm not asking you to forgive me…forgive us or to forget what we did…I'm asking you to give us a chance."

Dean fell silent again. But this time, his face didn't show emptiness but he seemed to be deep in thought instead. "It may take forever."

"Then forever it will be." Nothing was going to hold him back. If forever it would take for him to redeem himself, then he would fight endlessly till the day he died. He owed that much to Dean and to his big brother, John Winchester. If John didn't get the chance to mend anything, then he would do it for the both of them. That was the least he could do for John – as his atonement for the wrongs he had committed against his brother.

"I do hope you realized that it's not only me you owe the explanation." Dean was already up on his feet.

'Shit!'. When he said he had a lot of explanation to do, he'd been thinking only of the Winchesters. He had completely forgotten his own boys – his oldest especially, who deserved the same amount of explanation he had given Dean and Sam. The boy deserved the same amount of apologies.

It was not only Sam who woke at night screaming Jenny's and Kyle's name. Sam was not alone in missing his playmate. Jack had been through hell after Jenny's death, caring for Kyle who remembered more than he was supposed to. His nights were never quiet, not when Kyle was screaming on the top his lungs calling for not only his mom but also for Dean and Sammy, not when the little boy crept from one room to another looking for his brothers, his playmates and not when the little boy's face fell when he couldn't find them.

The feeling dawning on Jack as he watched Kyle grow up thinking Dean and Sam were his imaginary brothers was agonizing enough, and for him to say nothing about the truth Jack sincerely thought he was the one who should go to hell, not John.

Jack was overwhelmed with guilt and was lost in his thoughts when Dean left him alone to go to the kitchen.

…………………………….

The truth hit Kyle like a lightning bolt. His appetite was going into the drain and he felt a violent wrenching on his gut that made him gag. The thoughts clouding his mind were not helping with the nausea.

"Dad…you're kidding right?" Matt cut the eerie silence at the dining table. What was supposed to be a big feast celebrating a grand triumph had turned into something that resembled the Last Supper – an atmosphere that was filled with so much tense and misery, it felt like death.

Jack sighed. The question felt like déjà vu. "No Matt." He had long stopped eating.

In fact everybody at the table had stopped eating, even Bobby. The man looked as cold as ice, pretending not to listen. But Jack could tell the 'You deserved it!' look reigning on Bobby's face anytime. His old friend was silently threatening him to make things right. Jack nearly felt the infamous deadly Singer's punch on his jaw if he were to back away now.

Matt gave the Winchester brothers a sidelong glance. It was unbelievable, thrilling at the same time, that during the last seconds the brothers were complete strangers to him and the next they were his family, his cousins. They really had a connection after all. That explained the attachment he felt in the presence of Dean and Sam.

"And you took this long to tell the truth?" Pushing away his plate, Kyle glared at his old man. He didn't retreat his gaze like he used to do when his eyes met his father's. "What if we never found them in the forest?"

"Kyle…"

"Then maybe we never learned the truth."

"Kyle…please."

Jack was tired of the accusations tossed on him. He knew he deserved all the accusation and the anger, but he had had too much and a little bit more would bring him to the edge.

Kyle chuckled grimly, shook his head and fell quiet. "I can't believe it dad…after all these years you've been keeping it to yourself." He couldn't stop. It was just unfair.

"Son, I don't need this right now."

"The secrets you kept…how can you still call us your sons?" Kyle stood, gave Dean, Sam and Matt – _his brothers_ - a wry glance. He was thrilled, yes. But to think that he was denied the right to have a family was too painful he couldn't simply give Dean and Sam a hug. He managed a tight curl of his lips before it slipped and left through the backdoor, leaving everything behind.

Jack pretended he didn't see it and continued eating, though he tasted nothing but bitterness.

"Kyle?" Matt was rousing to his feet but Sam caught him by the arm and sat him back down. He looked at the youngest Winchester questioningly, almost irately. This was the moment Kyle needed him the most and he was silently told not to meet his brother's need. What the hell?

"Leave him alone for a while…you can talk to him later." As much as he knew Dean, Sam knew Kyle Callahan like the back of his hand. When it came to dealing with big brothers like Dean and Kyle, he was aware of what button to push and when was the right time to push it.

Seeing the sincerity in the hazel eyes, Matt sat down. Maybe Sam was right. The pressure was too hard, maybe oppressing for Kyle. Learning the truth was never easy, not when it tended to scratch your already bruised heart.

Sam looked over at Dean, who was quiet like a statue. His brother's face held a dark shade that added to his already sunken features. Dean was eating quietly, almost automatically, but his plate didn't seem to get empty.

The oldest Winchester had been quiet the whole time Jack was repeating the truth about him and John being brothers. Sam was enthralled, he was. To realize that they still had someone other than Bobby to be called family – from a real blood tie – was fascinating. It was thrilling to know that at one aspect, they were normal – they had relatives, people that felt so much like home.

But to see the pain on Dean's and Kyle's face was devastating. They both showed total dejection, the pain of being rejected. One was ripped apart from his privilege of being a son, and the other was given no trust of handling the truth from a person he trusted the most. Or maybe they were suffering both. What could be more painful than that?

Sam sighed. They would be having a rough night – maybe even rougher than the nights before.

TBC

* * *

a/n: Well, did I say something about this chapter is going to be the last? Apparently it wasn't. Sorry the story didn't finish here. Everything couldn't seem to fit in one chappie, so I might as well write another one and end it with an epilogue if that was okay with you. Hope you enjoy reading! And a review would be nice *grins*


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: If loving the guys could be considered owning them…yes! I own them. But sadly, it doesn't work that way.  
**Beta cum co-author**: bia1007

a/n: Geez! I'm really sorry this chapter took like years (figuratively) to be updated. My life was kind of getting on to me. So here to redeem myself, I gave my heart out to write this chapter. Really hope it worked and that you guys would like it. Enjoy! And again, sorry.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

"Jack!!!"

Jack jolted up from the bed – his heart racing frantically. Clutching his blanket in a tight grip, his knuckles were white. His eyes were fixed on the door, waiting so fretfully his blood ran cold in his veins. There were loud and angry stomps on the stairs, heading towards his room. Sweat glistened on Jack's face despite the numbing coldness ravaging his body.

The doorknob turned and Jack watched with fret. When the door cracked open, all the senses in his body screamed for him to start running. But his body was nothing but numb. Instead of running away, he waited with bated breath.

"You lazy ass!" His father was already at the door. His bloodshot eyes stared at him so fiercely and his breathing was loud – so loud Jack couldn't hear any other sound but the heavy huff of his old man's breath.

"Dad…" Jack whimpered, almost inaudible. There was no use to plead for mercy or to cry for help. There was no one to help him – the one person who was able to always refused to help.

The man he had called father since forever got to his bed in two long strides and grabbed him by his collar, choking him with his stinky breath. Jack winced, but that was about all he did. He would have never fought back, never.

"I told you to open the door for me, you bastard!" His father shouted at his ear, blinding him with the pain throbbing at the back of his head.

Jack fell silent. There was no use telling his father he had been sick with the flu and was bedridden. He was too sick, even walking was impossible, much less going down the stairs to open the door for his father.

"I…I'm…I'm sorry sir," an apology was all Jack could manage to redeem himself.

"Sorry my ass!" And his father clocked him square on the face, sending him to the floor. That was not all. Once he was down, his father kicked him in the gut a couple of times. When he curled up the beating continued abusing the other part of his body. All the time the beating took place, Jack didn't even whine or cry.

He'd been through this hell as long as he could remember. He was so used to the beating he couldn't feel any more pain. All he wished now that the beating would once end his life so he didn't have to go through the suffering for the rest of his life. It was never the beating that hurt him so damn much. It was the ignorance that tortured him the most.

Tonight, Jack wished he'd die.

"I should have killed you sooner," and Jack's wish was about to come true when his father lifted the bedside lamp, ready to smash his head with it.

He didn't realize doing it, but Jack's lips curled lightly – savoring the last moments of his life. There was nothing in life he would regret leaving behind except for one thing – his big brother John. Though dying would end his suffering, it tortured him more to realize that he was going to leave John.

But then again, John had left him. His big brother had left him a couple of months ago – promising that he would come back for him. Jack waited and kept on waiting, but John never came back. Maybe he was what his father claimed him to be, good-for-nothing. He was not even worth to have a brother.

Still, John was the only person on earth that ever cared about him – who taught him to love and to be loved. He was the only one whose presence had made Jack feel human – not an animal which life was worth only to serve as someone's punching bag. John was his everything, his meaning of life. So yeah, Jack was hoping he could have met John for one last time.

Jack silently prayed that John was here and he would be able to say his last goodbye.

And again, his prayers came true when suddenly the bedside lamp came down crushing on the floor right in front of him. His father had missed. Jack found out sooner than he had expected that his father hadn't missed when the hefty man stumbled to the floor so hard he felt the wooden planks beneath him rumble.

Jack's eyes widened and he was dumbfounded to see his father – lying there on the floor, unmoving. A trickle of blood ran along his forehead, pooling fast on the floor beneath his cheek. He shuddered and without thinking started crawling to one corner of the room. There he curled up and began to weep silently.

For the first time in 13 years, he could feel all the pain and the suffering came rushing into his body. For the first time after all those years, he was free to feel the pain and the agony and for the first time, he could cry. So when a hand gripped his shoulder, Jack screamed at the top of his lungs, almost throwing up in the process.

"Hey! Hey! It's me kiddo!" the ever comforting voice! Oh! It was the voice he'd been craving to hear since the last two months. "I'm here…you're okay now, I'm here."

Cool hands carefully eased him up and pulled him into a tight hug. "God Jackie! I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."

Oh God! The touch felt so good. Jack relinquished the warmth of the hug and snuggled closer. "John…John…" he called with tremors shaking his whole body.

"Yes little brother, I'm here…I'm sorry, should've come earlier," John gently pushed his little brother away from him and studied his face. Jack's face was marred with bruises and cuts – totally mashed with new injuries on top of the old ones that hadn't fully healed. Brushing away the thin line of blood trickling from Jack's mouth, John felt tears pooling in his eyes. "Oh God! Jackie, I'm sorry." John pulled Jack back into his arms – stroking his little brother's back soothingly as tears started rolling down his cheek.

As he rocked Jack back and forth, John looked at his step-father – now out to the world – with satisfaction. He should have done what he did sooner. Then Jackie would have been spared from all the tortures and the abuse. John didn't know what had driven him into knocking daylight out of his step-father. All he remembered was coming back to get Jack – to take him away from the house and live with him – saw Jack's old man trying to kill his brother, and the next thing he knew he had bashed the man's head with a paper weight he didn't remember grabbing from Jack's study.

However, it wouldn't take long for the brute man to regain consciousness.

John cradled Jack and lifted him into his arms. For a thirteen-year-old, Jack was light and small. He never had the chance to grow up like other kids anyway having an abusive father and an uncaring mother who never bothered to step in and stop the abuse. Cuddling the boy protectively in his embrace, John said "Let's go kiddo…we leave now."

"Where?" Jack hugged John's neck, feeling safe and secured – just like he'd always been when he was with John.

"I'm going to take care of you now Jackie," John promised. This was one thing he'd been promising the kid since forever but had not been able to keep until now. God knew how much he longed to make it a reality. "No one's going to hurt you anymore." It felt so good that this time he would be able to protect Jackie for good.

Jack nodded, mumbling "I believe you John," and huddled closer to John – his big brother, his protector and his entire world.

The big brother didn't waste more time. He secured his grip on Jack and headed for the door before he halted abruptly, seeing their mother standing by the door – her face etched with uncertainty.

"Ma…" he called out hesitantly.

"John." She called and reached out to touch them.

John flinched away from her hand and pulled Jack closer towards him.

She backed away and clutched her night gown, right where her heart was beating. Tears streamed down her face as she saw the look in her son's eyes. She had failed as their mother, but she was not going to fail now. For once, she wanted to be their mother, their protector.

"Go son…take your brother and don't ever return, go." She flicked her hand over John's shoulder, ushering him towards the stairs.

"Come with us ma," Jack stuttered as a shiver ran its course through his body, rocking him so furiously. He reached towards his mother, groaning with pain as the gesture took a toll on his feeble body. Oblivion was fast overtaking him, threatening to sink him deeper into the freaky dark world.

She grabbed his hand and stroked it gently, lovingly but with the fear of hurting him – an affectionate gesture she had denied her sons from since she was married to his current husband. She kissed her baby's hand and said "I'm sorry baby…I'm sorry I didn't do anything."

"It's okay ma…you couldn't have done anything." Jack could never hate her. She gave him life after all – though it was hellish. Despite all the suffering he was still alive and breathing, for that he couldn't hate her.

"Ma…come with us," John finally found the courage to speak.

It had been long since he last talked to her. Her ignorance and her callousness towards their sufferings developed a sheer anger in him, causing him to estrange her from his life. But seeing the love and the empathy in her eyes now, he felt all the longing and his unquenched thirst for his mother's love came rushing into him like a wave.

"No son…this is my way of redeeming myself," she wiped away her tears, kissed her youngest on his forehead and looked up to his eldest. "John, promise me you're going to take a good care of your brother."

"You know I'll always do ma."

"I know and I know you'll do better than me," she caressed her teenaged son's face and smiled "You are so like your father John…if only he was alive, things would have been different."

John looked down to his baby brother – limp in his arms – and shook his head. If his father was still alive, he wouldn't have Jack as his brother. Things would have been really different then and he was sure he wouldn't like it. Life without Jack was a life he couldn't live in, no.

Suddenly they heard a loud grunt from Jack's room and their hearts skipped a beat. It was Jack's father, he was coming around fast.

"Go!" Their mother shoved them towards the stairs. Giving them one last hug, she said "Take care my babies," as tears rolled down her beautiful face. And that was the last image of her John and Jack would hold forever in their lives. Deep inside, they had forgiven her.

"Come back you sons of a bitch!!!"

John ran down the stairs and headed for the entrance. Thank God he hadn't turned off the engine when he'd arrived earlier. It was his brotherly instinct that had told him something bad was happening to Jack and he'd dashed out of the car to get to his brother's aid. He buckled Jack in the passenger's seat and got himself into the driver's seat. Without looking back at the foyer or what could have appeared there, John pulled the gear and stepped on the gas with all his might.

Looking at the rear view mirror, he saw his step-father swaying his fist in the air as he chased their car with rage. They kept on driving until finally the man disappeared from the mirror, replaced by swirls of dust rising on their trails.

John kept pressing the gas until he was sure they were far away from that place they used to call home. Then only he stopped by the roadside to check on his brother. He patted the steering wheel fondly, thanking the old SUV he had 'borrowed' from Mr. Kingston – the owner of the ranch he was working at – for such a marvellous job. It might be old, but it surely could drive.

An amused snort caused John to blush. "What?" He looked at Jack – half expecting to see his brother grinning like an idiot. But Jack was slumping in the seat instead, looking tired and beat.

"You and cars…sometimes I wondered whether you're into any relation with them." Jack curled his lips into a thin smile and winced when it hurt so much.

"Hey! You okay?" John did a quick round up on his brother – pressing assessing fingers on Jack's battered side to look for abnormalities on his ribs, poking on his abdomen to ensure no internal bleeding had taken place – before Jack smacked his hand away.

"M'fine John…" Jack hissed. John's fingers were adding to his pain, not helping – but to feel John's touch again felt so damn good. "I've had worse."

John studied Jack's face with endless sympathy. "I'm sorry Jackie…should've come earlier."

"Hey! You came right?" Jack closed his eyes, feeling so exhausted all of a sudden. "Just promise me you'd never leave again."

A smile was drawn over John's face. The "You're such a girl Jackie-O," that he'd been missing to say couldn't be contained anymore.

The 13-year-old grunted with annoyance. "Just promise man."

John didn't stop smiling when he turned on the ignition and put the car into gear. Casting a quick glance to Jack, the smile just grew wider. Jack was sound asleep, lost to the world. The pain scrunches on his face had vanished completely. When they were finally on the road again, then he whispered…

"I've got you now… and I'll never let you go, never."

…………………………………….

"Why didn't you promise me John?" Jack whispered painfully as he rubbed the ring on his finger. That was the only thing that made him feel connected to his big brother, John Winchester.

"_Here! Put this on…" John tossed his silver ring to Jack without even looking at him._

"_Why?" Still, Jack put the ring on._

"_It's my lucky charm…I want you to have it." John laced his boots._

"_What?!" Jack __asked__ bewildered and began to take the ring off before his brother put a hand on his, stopping him. He looked up to find John smiling. "Then what about you? I couldn't take this John." Half an hour before a battle and John had given him his lucky charm the he always boasted to have saved his ass numerous times before – Jack couldn't accept it, he didn't want to risk his brother's life. _

"_I don't need any lucky charm Jack…I have you __don't__ I?" _

"You should have promised… then you wouldn't have left and never came back…" Jack twisted the ring as a lone tear rolled down his cheek. He clutched his head in his hands and started crying. "Why didn't you promise?"

"Oh God!! What have I done?!" he cried sadly. His body shook with every hitching breath. For the first time after more than two decades, Jack couldn't contain his feeling anymore. He felt so sick – as if all the pain and the loneliness he'd been keeping inside started to avenge him all at once. "John…oh John…"

Jack kept on crying as he sat on the ground – his back against the Impala. The car was another thing that made him feel close to John, his long gone big brother.

………………………………….

Matt stood in sheer silence as he watched his old man breaking down like a child near the Impala. He had seen Jack squeeze his way out from the cabin half an hour ago - despite the mounting tension in the atmosphere - and decided to follow him.

However when Jack walked around the Impala with one hand stroking the metallic body of the car, Matt stopped and waited on the porch, hiding in the shadows, keeping himself away from his father's view.

When Jack sagged down near the Impala's wheel and started crying, Matt was taken aback. He had never seen his old man looking so wretched and broken before. His father had always been rough and hard, refusing to let emotions rocking him in whatever ways possible. But now Jack looked awfully different – someone that Matt had never known for all his life. Matt's heart ached seeing the different side of Jack – a man who Matt thought never knows what emotions meant.

"Hey?"

Matt quickly wiped away his tear – one streak that he didn't realize he had shed – and turned around, finding the youngest Winchester standing behind him, all tall and leggy. "Hi Sam," was all the he could manage.

"Have you seen Dean?" Sam looked around but soon realized Matt was trying really hard to block his view.

"Think I saw him in the backyard."

The dinner hadn't worked out so well. Instead of a celebration it turned into a heart-to-heart talk session that turned real bad in the end. Everybody hadn't eaten too much albeit they were starving and everybody had left the table even before finishing their meals.

"Oh…guess things turned out pretty bad huh?" Sam hunched his shoulders with defeat. "And we thought we'd won."

"Hey…at least now we know we're family." Matt smiled. Despite the tension stretching around them, Matt was really thrilled of the fact that they still people they could call family.

A dimpled smile appeared on Sam's face. "Yeah…you're right." He rubbed his neck nervously, almost shyly. "Cool huh? How things can change in just one night."

The youngest of both families studied each other's faces and laughed. But suddenly another fact dawned on them, silencing them at instant.

"Now if only everyone would share…" Sam sighed.

Matt couldn't agree more. He wished Kyle and Dean, and his father would have been more cheerful about the reunion. "If only…"

……………………………….

Dean leant against the door frame scrutinizing his surroundings. The backyard was eerily silent, no sounds of crickets and no croaking frogs – for laymen it would have been creepy. But he knew creepy. Creepy in hunter's world meant death was lurking around the corner. This silence though was not creepy. It was just…quiet.

Looking around, his eyes fell on a figure sitting at the dock by the lake. Dean squinted hard and realized he was looking at Kyle. Raking his hair with his fingers Dean sighed.

Kyle. He'd used to babysit Kyle, let the boy call him Deannie, just like Sam would. As a toddler, Kyle clung to him with devotion, almost idolizing him. And Dean had never made any differences between Sam and Kyle – whatever Sam had got from Dean, Kyle would have gotten it too. Whenever Sam had crept onto Dean's bed during a thunderstorm, Kyle would follow suit. Then Dean would spread his arms and took them both into his embrace. He had treated both kids equally. Loving Kyle like his own little brother was his way of thanking Jack and Kyle for taking care of him and Sammy.

Dean rubbed his face and let out another sigh. Oh God!

Only God knew how much he missed that kid. But seeing how the kid's face fell after his father had revealed the big secret, Dean's heart ached with him. He understood Kyle's pain very well – betrayed by a father he'd always looked up to, to be denied of his right to have a family and to be detached from his privilege of being his father's son – only Dean would understand him. For the most of it, Dean thought he knew how Kyle would have felt towards him.

But he dared to take the chance. So Dean went back into the kitchen, retrieved two bottles of beer from the fridge and headed towards the dock.

"Rough night huh?" Dean sat down on the mossy planks, right next to Kyle. Shoving the beer into the kid's lap, Dean didn't wait for him to take it or to thank him for it. Kyle looked at him questioningly, his mouth gaping as if wanting to say something but he decided to shut up instead.

"You can say that again." Kyle said as he studied the bottle in his hand. He'd been beer intolerant – if that was possible - but now Kyle thought he was in bad need of the drink. So he took off the cap and downed half of the content.

"Whoa! Easy there dude." Dean was astonished. He didn't really intend for the kid to get drunk on him, but then again a bottle of beer couldn't bring much harm right?

"Don't get me wrong man…but God! I hate you."

Dean studied Kyle's face, identifying whether Kyle was already drunk and it was the beer doing the talking. But no, it wasn't. Whatever Kyle might have said, he really meant it.

"Couldn't argue with that." Dean nodded as he took a sip from his bottle.

"He had kept the secret from us for more than twenty years…why did he reveal it now? I mean…twenty years dude." Kyle shook his head with disbelief. The beer was beginning to show its effect on him. Damn! That was quick. "And why you…why not me or Matt?"

Dean shrugged. "I…I just don't know."

Then silence crept in, leaving the guys speechless.

"I said I hate you didn't I?" Suddenly Kyle turned to Dean and grinned like an idiot. "It's not true dude…I think I love you, really."

Dean's eyes widened. _'Shit!'_. Only one swing from the bottle, not even half of its content and the kid was already drunk. "Man, don't tell me you never had one of these before."

"What? This?" Kyle held up the bottle and laughed. "Dude, I'm allergic to it! I could die from it!" As his laugher intensified, Kyle threw his arms around Dean's shoulders, hugging him tight.

"Shit!" Dean was taken aback. He had seen the weirdest but people allergic to beers? That was just freaking weird. "You should have said something!"

"I thought you were not real!" Kyle pulled himself away from Dean and grinned even wider. "Like some sort of imaginary friend...or brother." Then, out of the blue, Kyle started weeping.

"I missed you guys so much…I remember looking for you around the house, calling your names," Kyle's breath hitched. "Dude, our old men? They were mean," he sobbed.

"Kyle, I really think you should throw up." Dean eased Kyle around and bent him over the dock, hitting him hard on his back. If what Kyle said was true about him being allergic to beers, one sip would have been lethal.

"No!" Kyle swatted Dean's hand away. "It's very hard for me…to live my life thinking my past was a made up memories, an imagination of a little boy who had just lost his mom." He cried sadly as he fell onto his side, curling himself up. "Do you know how bad it felt to have your own father telling you that all the things you remembered were lies only to find out you were right, that they were real?"

"You're talking to the right person man."

"And then…he…he chose you instead of me." Kyle's face had turned eerily pale. "All these years…he'd been grieving over you, gave us hard time trying to understand him, God!!"

Dean was at a loss for words. He understood just too well of how the kid was feeling. Whatever thought that was plaguing his mind was spoken out by Kyle and he was not sure he liked it.

A violent tremor ran through Kyle's body, threatening to intensify into waves of spasms.

"Damn it!" Dean pried Kyle's mouth open and stuck his finger into the kid's throat which caused Kyle to gag. "Don't fight it kiddo…just spit it all out!" and he almost jumped with triumph when the young Callahan vomited, spewing whatever he had consumed over the last half an hour into the lake.

When he was done, Kyle huddled up and wept sadly. His trembling arms went around his midsection, trying to minimize the cramps. "Why…why they were so mean?"

Dean patted Kyle's shoulder, the way he used to do when the kid was younger – when he couldn't sleep during a thunderous night. "I wish I knew kid…I wish I knew."

Carding his fingers through Kyle's damp hair, he really wished the boy didn't remember anything from their past – couldn't remember him and Sam, like Sam – because remembering meant he was living in a made up world, and it hurt like hell. Dean understood it well because it was how he had lived his life lying to himself that Kyle, Jack, Jenny and Matt never existed.

"I'm sorry you remembered Kyle." Dean whispered. Feeling Kyle's forehead for fever, he smiled sadly when the young man leaned into his touch. The kid was sinking fast into oblivion. "Wish things could have been better for you."

Sliding one arm under Kyle's knees and another across his back, Dean heaved the young Callahan into his arms. Looking at Kyle's face, he couldn't help but see the young Kyle he had known before. He really wished Kyle didn't have to go through this but for now he hoped Kyle would not remember tonight when he woke up tomorrow.

"I miss you too kiddo," with that Dean started his way back to the cabin.

TBC

* * *

a/n: Didn't dare to say this is going to be the last chap anymore. The story is haunted - it has a life of its own. Yikes! Thanks for everyone who had been sticking to this fic so far, reading, reviewing remarkably, and putting it their alert/fav list (awesome!). I couldn't thank you enough for the support on my firstborn here. THANK YOU!!!


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Winchesters and Bobby, but I sure own Jack, Kyle and Matt.  
Co-author cum beta: Bia1007

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Dean wrapped his fingers around the mug, taking in the aroma of fresh brewed coffee Sam had made for him. He took a sip, relinquishing the warmth of the drink and felt a bit of the weight on his shoulders being lifted away. He had just finished cleaning after the dinner that nobody was able to finish and now was watching Sam fill a basin with tap water and then rush out the kitchen to Kyle's and Matt's aid.

Sam had been running back and forth from the bedroom to the kitchen for the last two hours – hurrying to get clean washcloths, rummaging through the kitchen cabinet for nausea meds, preparing coffee to help release everyone's stress, patting Dean's shoulder once in a while to lessen his brother's worry before going back into the room to attend a newly-found and very sick cousin.

Less than 24 hours ago, it would have been Kyle waiting in the kitchen, offering Sam encouraging words and Matt would have been the nurse attending to the one in need of help that was Dean. But suddenly everybody's roles were reversed once Dean had entered the cabin with Kyle thrown over his shoulder like a rag doll. It sent shudders down his spine seeing the Callahans' faces went ashen white when he told them Kyle was wasted from drinking beer. Jack told him if he hadn't forced Kyle to vomit everything that he'd drunk, the situation might have been fatal.

Dean sighed deeply. Kyle was so close to dying and Dean felt responsible for it because of two reasons. First, he was the one who offered the kid the beer. And secondly, he had a hunch that it was him who caused Kyle's internal turmoil that driven him into doing the unthinkable – risking his life with such a suicidal act.

What the kid had said at the dock while he was drunk was enough to tell Dean everything. Kyle was deeply hurt by his father's act of secrecy and to make the matter worse his ego was scratched when his father first opened up to Dean rather than sharing with his own sons. Dean knew the pain too well for he had been in the same situation.

Dad, the person he trusted the most and was willing to die for, actually kept a lot of secrets from him. But what hurt the most was dad had never been there to tell him everything was going to be okay like most fathers will. Instead dad had told him to suck up the pain and carry on living without helping him to heal.

Damn! It hurt so much he thought he'd die.

"Dean?"

Dean was so lost in his thoughts**,** he didn't see Sam come into the kitchen and stand right beside him. He looked up to his sasquatch little brother and gave him a wry smile. "Hey!"

Sam stood there by Dean's side, unmoving and determined, taking in the slumped features of his big brother and drawing his own conclusions. With one quick glance he was able to read him thoroughly. "I'll be back in a minute…" he gave Dean a gentle squeeze on the shoulder, took a new washcloth and headed back to the bedroom. "Just don't move," was thrown at his brother over his shoulder.

"I'm not going anywhere…" Dean whispered faintly and took another sip.

………………………………………..

_Jack took the cap off another bottle of beer –__his sixth bottle __this__ night – as he flicked the remote, punching on the button irately searching for a decent show. But all he saw on the flickering screen was his beloved's face, screaming out his name__, her__ face distorted with pain. _

_When the face didn't go away no matter how many times he changed the channel, Jack tossed the device away and took a big swig of his beer. He closed his eyes, letting the calming effect of the beer taking over him, trying to forget. But instead of forgetting, the face appeared in his head, torturing him even in his sleep._

"_Daddy?" _

_A tiny demanding voice woke him from his unintended slumber. He looked to his side, to where his son stood looking at him with teary eyes. His __five-year-old's__ hair was messy from sleep. He might have had that nightmare again._

"_What's wrong?" Jack asked and cringed seeing his eldest flinch away from him, covering his nose, offended from his beer stinking breath. The kid nervously shook his head. _

"_I can't find Sammy and Deannie daddy," the boy sobbed, __rubbing his eyes to wipe away the__tears._

_Jack __took__ a deep breath. It hurt him so much hearing the two names and to have them mentioned by his heartbroken kid Jack's heart skipped a beat. Kyle must have been dreaming of Dean and Sam again and started looking for the two boys from room to room – like he'd done almost every night since Jenny's death. It had been almost a year now and the boy __had not forgotten__ a bit._

_As tears rolled down his face, Kyle whined sadly "I want Deannie…I wanna see Sammy…"_

_Feeling helpless and guilty as hell, Jack rubbed his aching head and hissed. Then he braced himself and carded his fingers through Kyle's hair. "Kyle…I've told you they're not real," __Jack said feeling so much pain he wished he could die.__ Lying to his little son was already a torture and denying Dean's and Sam's existence was tormenting him, slicing him from the inside. God! He missed the kids, but he couldn't look at their faces, not now. _

"_Not __real__?" Kyle looked up, his face soggy with tears. "But daddy…"_

"_No Kyle, they only exist in your head," God knew how hard it was for him to keep saying that. _

_Kyle's shoulder sagged dejectedly and it broke Jack's heart to see his son so sad. "Okay daddy…" he picked up the empty beer bottle and studied it fervently. "Daddy, why you like this so much?" he looked up to his father, curious. He'd seen his daddy hogging to the bottles almost every night, even during the days since mommy was gone. _

_Jack grabbed the bottle away from Kyle's hand and tossed it to the couch, away from his son's curious eyes. "It __makes__ me forget…now go to bed and look after your brother!" Jack didn't intend to be so harsh but he wasn't thinking. The beer had taken over his system, making him irrational. _

_The thundering of Jack's voice made his boy jump. He cowered away from his father and ran back upstairs – to his bed, to where his baby brother was sleeping. His heart was totally wrenched and he felt terribly alone. All he needed was his daddy telling him that everything was going to be okay but he caused his father's rage instead. _

_Kyle wished mommy or Deannie or Sammy __were__ here._

………_._

_Jack cracked his eyes open at the sound of a glass crashing to the floor. He shot up to his feet with a jolt and staggered slightly when his head spun madly. Clutching his head with one hand, Jack scanned the room. The TV was on static and the room was half lit by the beam from the roadside lights._

_He must have dozed off like an hour or two because it was not yet dawn. Moving towards the staircase, Jack cussed when he stumbled over something lying on the floor. He stepped backward and went wide eyed seeing the 'thing' he tripped onto. _

"_Kyle!!" Jack dropped __to__ his knees next to his eldest curling on the floor – his arms clutching his middle and his face sweaty and __contorted __with pain. "Oh my God!" he brushed Kyle's __curls__ off his forehead, flinching a little at the heat radiating from his body, and cupped his son's face._

"_Kyle, wake up!" Jack shook Kyle's body slightly, careful not to manhandle him too roughly, fearing for unseen injuries. "Talk to me baby," his voice hoarse from worry, his eyes blurry from unshed tears. 'Please God, don't make me lose him too.' _

_Jack __held his son close__, cradling his baby. The five-year-old opened his eyes __to __slits, whimpered "Daddyyy…" and Jack knew immediately the cause of his son's pain. __Kyle's __breath __smelled of__ beer and a puddle of sickness and the empty beer bottles scattered around him were the proof that his son decided to take his first liquor._

"_Kyle, what have you done?" Jack ran his hand over Kyle's face, brushing away the sweat and the mess. _

"_I wanna…forget d'dy…" Kyle hiccupped and let out an exasperated moan that wrenched his old man's heart. _

"_Oh God! Kyle…I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" Jack buried his face in__Kyle's hair and made a silent promise to himself – he was not going __to drown his problems in alcohol__ again, not anymore. _

"_Daddee…?"_

_Jack lifted his face from Kyle's hair to find wide blue eyes staring at him questioningly. "Matt?" He was too engrossed in his worry over his eldest he didn't hear his __little one__ coming. But at least now he didn't have to go upstairs and get the eighteen-month-old because he really couldn't waste anymore time. They needed to take Kyle to the hospital, and they had to do it fast. He was a doctor but Kyle __needed the hospital to get__ well again. After all Jack was sure Kyle needed him being a dad rather than a doctor. _

"_Kyle sick?" Matt asked, his pouty lips __trembling__ as his eyes brimmed with tears._

_Unable to answer his youngest son, Jack carried Kyle to the couch as Matt followed closely behind him – his hand tugging his father's night robe while his eyes were fixed on his brother's limp form. Then he climbed up the couch and waited, looking up to Jack like he was telling him what to do._

_Jack, understanding the look on Matt's face, settled his charge on the couch and carefully rested Kyle's head on the toddler's lap. "Watch your brother," was said over his shoulder as Jack grabbed the car key and headed outside to prepare the car._

_The tot watched his father leave and looked down to his brother – his face was as white as sheet and he was trembling madly, shaking Matt's little body with him. Matt wrapped his arms around Kyle's head, rested his cheek on his brother's warm forehead and started humming soothingly._

"_S'okay…I'mere." _

………………………

Jack rubbed his face and sighed wearily. As if seeing Dean on the verge of death was not enough, now he was threatened with Kyle's crazy beer stunt. His first attempt to drink beer at five – thinking it would make him forget everything – brought him a three days hospital stay and ended for Kyle with a severe intolerance to beer for the rest of his life. And now his rage had driven him to repeat the same mistake and again almost had cost him his life.

The retching sounds coming from the room Dean had occupied before was disturbing, making Jack feel sick to his stomach. He didn't know what to do. He really wanted to go into the room and at least sit by Kyle's bedside, to show that he really cared.

But he couldn't look his son in the eye, not after the revelation, not after he'd told Kyle that all the things he said about Dean and Sam were lies. Jack was not strong enough to face Kyle's anger but most of all he couldn't watch the hurt and the disappointment in his son's eyes.

Somehow Jack wished the beer Kyle drank that night more than twenty years ago would have worked a miracle by making his son forget everything. But no, real life didn't work that way. He'd lost himself in the bottle months after Jenny died but he still remembered.

"You okay?"

Looking up, he smiled dryly at Bobby who towered over him, invading his personal space with a worried glance and a comforting smile.

"Yeah…it's just that too many things happened," Jack fidgeted with his hands, studying them with an empty gaze. He almost shot up to his feet when another heaving sound resonated down the room's way. But then he sagged down into the couch and sighed for the umpteenth times.

Bobby took a seat in front of Jack and followed his gaze. Seeing the worry in Jack's eyes as he stared at the room longingly, Bobby knew for sure. "Why don't you just go in?" he asked, tilting his head towards the room.

Jack turned towards Bobby, glared at him disbelievingly and shook his head "No, he's still mad at me."

Bobby took a deep breath, shaking his head exasperatedly. He knew too much about the Winchesters – _Jack was John's half brother, but he pretty much inherited the Winchesters' stupidity making him a true Winchester_ – he could tell the answer even before Jack had said anything.

"What would it take for you to admit your mistakes to him?" Bobby huffed.

He didn't remember Jack asking for Kyle's forgiveness after he revealed the big secret during dinner. In fact he was sure Jack was avoiding Kyle's eyes all the time he was talking. And when Kyle left the dining table, Jack didn't even bother to follow him and try engaging him into a father and son talk. A lot could have been changed if Jack went after Kyle then. Damn! A lot would have been changed if John and Jack were not such hardheaded fools.

"He should have understood." Jack retorted, uncaring to bring the current conversation into a more serious heart-to-heart talk.

"What**,** are you kidding? How could he possibly understand?" Bobby shook his head in disbelief. "Dean never understood, why did you think Kyle would?"

"He'd have to," Jack didn't have time for this. The pain he'd been trying to forget for the past twenty years was coming back to haunt him. Everywhere he looked, he saw John. Whenever he tried to listen he would hear John's voice ringing in his ears. His guilt over John's death was swallowing him, punishing him. As much as he rejoiced the family reunion, he was devastated by the fact that John was not there to share the joy – or to even share the blame and the guilt.

"Jack…the kid was terribly hurt," Bobby tried to make it clear for Jack. Though Jack's last name was not Winchester, he was one of them. And the Winchesters would never see what they were missing unless someone pointed it out to them. "If you could talk to Dean…why can't you talk to Kyle?"

"It's different."

"How is it different…he's your son, dammit!" Bobby was losing his temper. Jack and John could really get to his nerves. The last time he met the brothers he almost blasted a bullet through their skull and he couldn't even remember why.

"Please Bobby, not now." Jack had so much to deal with, he really couldn't think straight. Whatever Bobby was saying didn't get through to him. He burrowed himself deeper into the couch and closed his eyes, shutting himself off from the world.

Bobby sighed. When it came to stubbornness, Jack was as hardheaded as John. He thought he knew a lot about the brothers but he was wrong. There were a lot of things that he would never understand but the most was why John and Jack had kept distant to their sons.

There were countless of times Bobby had watched John did the same – being an absent father - to Dean and Sam, but especially to Dean. Sam he could understand, that kid was rebellious and it never bothered him that his father couldn't care less. But Dean, Dean was a different case. That boy, since he was only a child, had always tried to gain his father's approval, a devoted son who didn't deserve the way his father had treated him.

If only John and Jack knew how lucky they were to have a family then all these wouldn't have happened. Bobby wished they knew how it felt – the pain never to have a son.

"Idjits!" Bobby muttered under his breath.

…………………………….

It had been two hours and Kyle was still punished for his foolishness. He'd been having a severe episode of retching and it gave him crappy abdominal muscle cramps. His body was doing its work of diminishing the poison – the beer – from his system, he knew, but Kyle wished it was over already. He was completely exhausted but it was obvious that his suffering wasn't going to end soon.

This had been his fifth time puking into the waste basket over the last hour and he felt like crap. He was listing on his side and a comforting hand was rubbing circles on his back, soothing him. The familiar gesture was not offered by his brother or father, but of Sam, which reminded him of his days at Stanford – when he was not feeling so hot and Sam was looking after him. Poor guy having to look after somebody else's big brother when he'd only saved his own hours before. Guess little brothers were made to be good healers.

His own little brother however was brooding at the end of the bed, his face expressing his frustration. Kyle gave Matt a quick glance during a brief moment of relief and backed away when his eyes met Matt's. The slight movement made him nauseous and he got back into series of violent retches.

After he finished spewing whatever was left in him, Kyle rolled onto his back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. From the corner of his eyes he watched Sam taking the waste basket and looking down at him.

"What?" Kyle rasped, sliding one arm across his face, avoiding the stare.

Sam tilted his head at Matt and shrugged. "You're on your own now dude," he sighed and took the waste basket with him as he walked out the room, leaving Kyle with his broody little brother. "I'll be back with that green tea that you love so much," Sam grinned as he stood by the door. Payback was always sweet.

Kyle flipped Sam the bird and the lanky guy went out the room, laughing.

Sensing the dark aura radiating from the other end of the bed, Kyle peeked at Matt from under his arm and hissed seeing the grim look at his brother's face. "Okay! That's scary," he mumbled, knowing he would only garner the look – the most dreaded look – by doing something stupid. And he sure had screwed up big time.

Closing his eyes, Kyle realized Matt was still staring at him. He could feel his brother's eyes stinging his face, making him blush. "Come on Matt…I already feel like crap here," Kyle whined, almost pleading.

Matt held up the stare for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath. He sighed resignedly, "I have a moron for a brother."

Kyle rolled his eyes. _'Here we go again.'_

"What were you thinking dude?!" Matt's voice was a little bit too loud for Kyle's ears, causing the headache to increase tenfold. "What were you thinking drinking that beer?"

"I'm fine man," Kyle groaned defensively.

"Fine?" Matt chided. "I can't believe this!" Matt threw his arms in the air. "Man, your lung almost collapsed and you said you're fine?!" chastising, he didn't let the pained expression on his brother's face stop him – his tone was filled with anger and annoyance that it made Kyle grit his teeth to hold back the pain, not daring to fish for sympathy.

"Well…I'm not dead right?" was said out of reflex and Kyle regretted that he ever said that as soon as he saw how much it hurt Matt. The anger disappeared from his little brother's face and was replaced by a horrifying look of dejection. That was when Kyle decided to shut up. He'd crossed the limit.

Matt sighed sadly and bent forward, his elbows resting on his knees and his shoulders slumped forward in a way that made him look older than he was. Staring emptily ahead, Matt smiled dryly. "Now I will lose you too?"

Out of the many questions he'd been expecting from Matt, the one his little brother had just asked he wasn't prepared for. "What?"

"Dude, is it not enough dad is already living in a world of his own, now you will start too?" Matt was still looking at the wall with an empty gaze. "I only have you and dad but it looks like I'm really on my own."

"Matt…" Kyle was suffering enough, he couldn't take more. "Man…I'm…"

"I might not understand how much you were hurt from all this," Matt turned to look at Kyle - his eyes were red rimmed, close to shedding tears. "But at least I can try to listen…dude, God knows how hard I'd tried but you never let me in."

Kyle was at loss for words. Most of the time, he would flee from Matt's pansy talk with witty remarks but this was one talk he knew he shouldn't avoid even if he could. It hurt so damn much knowing his father had lied to him and had chosen Dean over him, but the pain of seeing his brother so distraught was tormenting him that he didn't have the heart to ignore Matt and his heart-to-heart talk.

"What is it with you and dad?" Matt couldn't understand the distance that existed between Kyle and their old man. It was too obvious. Even before the revelation, Kyle had never been able to reach out to their father and neither would Jack. But from their resistance, it was clear to Matt that they both needed each other more than anyone else in the world.

When they were hunting, his old man and his big brother made the greatest team – almost invincible. They worked together so well on hunts that they seemed to be able to read each other's mind. But when it came to small talks that didn't involve hunting, Kyle and Jack never left the conversation without cussing to each other's face. Damn! They even fought over coffee brands they should buy from the mart.

"You will never understand Matt," there were times Kyle had hoped that he had the liberty of forgetting his past, like Sam had, or never remembered anything like Matt.

"Then help me understand…" Matt turned around and stared at his brother pleadingly. "I'm your brother…talk to me," he went to Kyle's bedside and sat right next to him.

"I can't." Kyle shook his head**.**

"Come on dude, you can't shoulder this one alone…you have to let me carry some of the weight," Matt was not going to give up so soon. He had to try.

"No." The rejection was clear.

Matt gave up. Kyle was still broken from the secrets Jack had kept from them and nothing could change that unless a miracle happened. His big brother was the biggest hardhead ever. There was no point of trying to talk sense into him now.

Kyle forced himself up, gathering all the energies he got left, and leaned against the headboard. Matt hurried to his aid by fluffing a pillow and stacking it behind him. His little brother was disappointed in him, he could see. But he couldn't open up to Matt, at least not now.

"I'm sorry man." That was the least he could say.

Matt gave Kyle a resigned look and shook his head. He shouldn't have tried in the first place. "It's okay," if Kyle didn't want to talk about it, he was not going to push. "But dude, at least try to see the good side of everything…I mean, we got a family!" Matt smiled.

All he got for a response was an indifferent "Yeah."

"Gee! That's encouraging..." disappointment was evident in Matt's tone. "What now? Inferiority complex?" Matt zipped up his mouth when Kyle shot him a deadly glare. Judging from the response, Matt had definitely hit the jackpot but he was not going to bring it up.

Shrugging with resignation, Matt got to his feet and looked down to Kyle. "I better let you rest now…" he said and turned around, heading for the door. Then he stopped, cast Kyle a hopeful glance over his shoulder and reasoned "You know…I don't know what grudge you hold against him but Dean saved your life…if it was me, that'd be enough reason for me to forget everything and accept him as family."

Matt waited for Kyle to say something but his brother remained quiet and motionless. "At least you can pretend that you're okay with him…I mean you did pretty well with Sam just now."

"And Kyle…I'm always here and I wished you'd see that," saying that, he left the room without waiting for Kyle to respond because he was aware he would get none.

As soon as Matt had left, Kyle took a deep breath and let out a defeated sigh. His brother might be right about him having inferiority complex, but Matt got it wrong when he said he was pretending to like Sam. Kyle was not pretending. And what he said to Dean back at the dock, though he was heavily doped with the beer, came out straight from his heart.

The truth was he missed Dean. He used to love him like any little brothers would do for God's sake and what more he still loved him the way he did no matter how often his old man told him that Dean was a figment of his childhood imagination. Even when he finally believed that Dean and Sam were his imaginary friends, he still held them firm in his heart – making them his channel of reliving the wonderful past that he had to leave behind after mom's death.

Already feeling drained, Kyle lay down again and closing his eyes, he thought maybe he could give it a chance. But honestly, he was unsure whether he would be able to look at his dad without remembering the lies and the secrets he'd been holding. And looking at Dean, he was sure he would always be reminded of the rights he'd been denied.

God helped him because he really wanted to forgive or simply forget.

………………………………

Sam entered the kitchen and found his brother still sitting at the dining table, staring into the half empty mug with a blank gaze – the same way he had found him the last time Sam came to get the washcloth.

"You could burn the table staring at it like that," Sam kidded, attempting to ease the tension. There had been a lot of it everywhere – Kyle's room, the living room and now the kitchen - it was choking him. Sam prayed his thanks when his sarcasm brought a smile to Dean's face.

"Funny Sam," Dean replied and finished his coffee as Sam pulled a chair across him and took a seat. "So, how is Kyle?" he asked without looking up from his empty mug. There was something in his eyes that he didn't want Sam to see and Sam damn realized it.

"I think he should be okay after a night's rest," Sam reported. Then a moment of utter silence pierced between them before Sam asked "How about you?" and waited for Dean to open up – something almost impossible to happen without Sam knocking the sense out of him.

"Okay…" simple answer that told so much – Dean's defense mechanism from Sam's provoking inquiry.

"Do we have to go through this?" Sam rolled his eyes, downright frustrated with Dean always trying to act though. "Why can't you for once be honest with yourself…to admit that you're not okay?"

"Sam…" Dean groaned defensively, warning his brother not to push.

Sam let out an exasperated breath and looked away from Dean. His brother didn't want to talk, fine! He wouldn't push. Sooner or later Dean would open up to him. Dean just needed some time to heal himself – like he did when Dad died or when his crossroad deal had neared the due date.

"You should have told me about Kyle and Matt you know?" Sam crossed his arms on the table and rested his face on them. His shaggy hair fell on the table, making him look so young and so vulnerable.

It hit Dean so hard he almost choked on his own breath. He did keep a secret about Jack and his family and he did lie to Sam about Kyle and Matt when his little brother woke up at night calling the latter's names. Was it possible that Sam also remembered? Dean never thought of that until now.

"Sammy," Dean called, guilt in his voice. "I…I'm sorry."

Sam looked up to Dean and smiled dryly. "S'okay…I understand, there must be good reasons why you had to lie and keep it from me."

Then Dean realized what Sam was trying to do. His little brother was trying to make him see what he was supposed to do about Jack and probably their dad too – forgive. Dean snorted "Nice move Sammy."

The little brother chuckled guiltily. "Caught red-handed, huh?"

Dean laughed and Sam couldn't explain how he felt seeing the smile returning to his brother's face.

Then there was that sudden silence again. Their eyes met, stayed for a couple of seconds –studying, understanding - before they finally disengaged. Sam cleared his throat and whined "I'm hungry."

Amused at how much like a child Sam sounded, Dean tilted his head to the fridge. "There's still some roast left from dinner."

Sam got up and retrieved the roast from the fridge, putting it on the table. "You game?"

Staring at the roast and giving it a thought, Dean nodded "Yeah, I'm in! Get me a plate."

Sam grinned and got them both a plate. As he was about to sit down again, Matt entered the kitchen and pulled a chair, joining them at the table. "The roast looks good," the young Callahan said, eyeing the chicken.

Dean smiled. He gave Matt his plate and motioned for Sam to get him another one. His little brother pouted, annoyed for being ordered around, but still he got up and got Dean a new plate. "How's Kyle Matt?" Sam asked, curious. When he left them just now, Matt was practically sulking, ready to burst at his big brother.

"Still a jerk!" Matt answered nonchalantly as he cut the roast and put it on his plate.

"Look before you leap Mathilda!" Kyle, looking like crap, appeared at the door, grinning. He walked over to the table, smacked Matt on the back of his head and sat down next to Dean. Ignoring the confused and puzzled look on Dean's, Sam's and Matt's face, he snatched Matt's plate and ate the roast his brother had carefully cut into tiny bits.

"Hey?!" Matt chided, shooting Kyle a glare. But Kyle was so engrossed with his meal, he wasn't looking at Matt.

Sam shook his head disapprovingly. He seized Kyle's plate away, returned it to Matt and handed him the toast instead. Then he poured some green tea into a mug and gave it to Kyle. "They're easier for your stomach."

Kyle looked at Sam and rolled his eyes irately. "Gee! Thanks mom!" But he ate the toast anyway.

Snorting amusedly, Sam looked at Dean and Kyle alternately. Both big brothers were avoiding each other's eyes but at least they were able to sit side by side at one table. He looked up to Matt and found the kid smiling at him. Returning the smile, Sam knew immediately that they both shared the same feeling of satisfaction and gratitude.

"Sam, Matt, are you eating?" Dean asked all out of a sudden. "'Cause we're not going to wait for you." He warned and stuffed a spoonful of the roast into his mouth.

"We'd wrestle you if we have to." Matt replied and was echoed with Sam's "Yeah, we would." If they needed to form a tag team to reconnect the family, then they would.

"You can try…but don't hope too much." Kyle said, making a silent promise to try and to leave it at that if his attempts failed.

"Yeah…" Dean agreed. "You need to fight real hard." They still got a long way to go before they could become a real family again. Broken relations to be mended and wounds needed to heal.

"Don't worry." Sam and Matt answered in sync. "We'll win." Relations could be restored and wounds could be treated. But they would make sure they were not going to lose their family again.

By hook or by crook, they were going to win.

**END**

* * *

a/n: Hi everyone! Looks like the story finally reached its end. But there'll be a short epilogue and maybe a sneak peek into the sequel (if you want to). God! I'm so thrilled because Brothers in Arms is my first SPN fan fiction and it means so much to me. I started from scratch here and I'd say now I am soaring up high and this story was the start of them all. I met wonderful people from writing this my beta, **PsiChic**, though temporary you'd been a great help, **Lizzy, Yohko, enviousxbeauty, Eileen, Tosharino, gr8read, Tribble, lynxpanther, Lee, sara respina, zuimar, samforlife, alwaysateen, alexisabove, masondixon, teacha4ever, FLD, orenkiut, Lia Walker, Lizard971, manavie** and many more that I didn't mention here but are always important and precious to me, the reviewers, the readers who listed BIA into their alert and fave list, and putting me into the lists, who'd been with me since the beginning…Gosh! You'd helped me keep the story alive. You might not realize it but you did. And last but not least to my beta cum co-author cum big sis, **Bia** the one who love the Callahans more than I do, this story would never flourish if not for you…you gave me courage to continue though there were times I'd rather stop. I couldn't have done it without you by my side, please stay. Thank you all. LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!


	17. Epilogue

Disclaimer: None of the Winchesters are mine but I love to think they are! *winks*  
Beta/Muse/conspirator: Bia1007

* * *

**Epilogue**

"Uncle Jackie!!" Dean came throwing himself into his arms, enthralled with the surprise visit. "What 'cha doin' here?"

Jack picked up the three-year-old and ruffled his dark blond hair "Let me look at you…wow! Look at how you'd grown in just three days." He pretended being shocked.

Dean giggled like crazy "Uncle Jackie…you're funny."

"Hi Deannie." Jenny came to his side and kissed Dean's chubby cheek. She carefully brushed the little boy's bangs off his forehead as he slouched over and peeked into the bundle she was carrying in her arms.

"Whazzat?" He asked, eyes wide with amazement.

Jack and Jenny exchanged amused glances before she answered "This is our baby…little Kyle."

Dean looked at Jack and Jenny alternately, his face distorted with worry. "You're not goin' to love me anymore?"

"No silly. We'd still love you." Jack was quick with his answer. He liked teasing the little boy but this was one thing he wouldn't use to gain his purpose. Dean was the first one he ever called son and it would not change till the day he died.

Jenny chuckled. "Of course we love you honey…you're still our baby. But now we have a second baby, which is yours too." Jenny smiled lovingly when baby Kyle reach out a hand and grasp Dean's finger. "See, he likes you."

Smiling, Dean giggled "I like baby Kyle too."

"Jack! Jenny!" Mary came down the stairs with John at her side and she walked over to Jack, kissed him on the cheek and turned to Jenny, looking into her cradle. "Aww…he's such a sweetie…you came straight from the hospital?" She gave Jenny a kiss and guided her to the living room. The men followed closely behind.

"Yeah, we came right away when we heard the news." Jenny let Mary sit her down on the couch and gratefully handed her the baby. "Congratulation!"

Mary looked up to John, who towered over her, smiling nervously. "He broke the news already?"

"I couldn't help it." John shrugged his shoulders and bit his lips.

Jack laughed and winked at John's direction, his brother needed assistance. "Never trust John to keep a secret from me."

Mary rolled her eyes and chuckled. She should have known.

"So…?" Jenny was curious.

"It's been three months now." Mary looked into Kyle's face, cooed as she gently rocked the baby in her arms. "Guess baby Kyle is going to have a playmate soon."

"And Deannie will have to babysit two babies." Jack teased the kid in his arms.

"I'm cool." The boy replied excitedly.

Jack laughed, he'd taught him that. He looked at John and asked "What's your hunch this time? A boy or a girl?"

John and Mary looked into each other's faces and smiled. "Well, we sort of hoping for a…" John couldn't finish when Dean say…

"I'm getting a brother." He declared, never been so sure.

"Oh really? How did you know?"

"I know." Dean nodded confidently. "And his name is Sammy."

"Sammy?" Jack was fascinated by the kid's determination. The confidence in his voice was so convincing Jack believed him without doubt. "You already picked a name for him? That's quick." He looked at John and Mary and laughed when they rolled their eyes in amusement.

"It looks like this time Dean is one step ahead of you John**,**" Jenny smiled at John.

"What can I say, like father like son." The pride was evident in John's voice.

"Deannie…aren't you afraid? If you get a brother, he'd take away all your toys and then he'd steal mommy and daddy from you." Jack couldn't help taunting the little boy.

"Jaaacck?!" Jenny hissed disapprovingly. It had always been her husband's habit to tease the little boy and sometimes the teasing caused Dean to sulk for days. But Jack was unstoppable. He knew Dean like the back of his hand. Jack knew what button to push and always how to make things up to the little boy.

But this time, Jack lost as Dean answered "No…I'm goin' to give him everythin' because he's my baby...like baby Kyle**.**" He saw so much determination in Dean's eyes Jack's breath caught in his chest.

Jenny, Mary and John laughed as Jack's face turned slightly red.

"I'm goin' to love 'em more than anything." Dean declared proudly.

"Then you're not going to love us anymore?" Jack put on his best pouty face.

"No silly! Of course I love you…forever!" Dean smiled and wrapped Jack's neck with his arms. "I love you uncle Jackie."

Jack felt his heart warm hearing the honest answer. He'd just got a taste of his own medicine. "I love you too Deannie."

……………………………………

Jack downed half of his beer and looked up to the night sky. The noise from inside the house had him smiling to himself. The girls' voices emerged among everything, sharing stories and secrets and sometimes there was Deannie rambling about his backyard discovery. It was past the boy's bedtime but he begged everyone to let him stay up a little bit longer using all the persuasive power he could muster – and naturally succeeded.

Everything was perfect, for him and John, especially for John. Deep inside him, he was grateful for Mary and Dean, and soon his second nephew. They had become John's new task, and saved him from his overprotective big brother.

Jack snorted. Did John ever really give up on him? He didn't think so. John might have a family of his own now that he needed to protect, but he would never give up protecting Jack. John had been Jack's parent since forever and he would never stop being one now. His big brother was that stubborn.

There had been times Jack feared John would never have a family of his own because of him. John was so keen on protecting Jack he didn't allow anything or anyone to distract him from his duty. But then Mary came and Jack was thankful his brother finally opened his heart for her.

Jack raised his bottle towards the sky, thanking God for blessing his big brother with a perfect family, and made a toast for John's everlasting happiness.

"You sneaky bastard! How could you leave me in there and come here, drinking on your own?"

Jack turned around and found John hovering over him, shooting him an accusing glare. His brother huffed and sat right beside him on the hood of the Impala.

The Impala was one more thing Jack was grateful for. One day John came back with it, beaming proudly and saying "Meet our new car," when he was supposed to buy a van instead. He said a guy talked him into buying the car, convincing him the baby would still run after thirty years. And Jack thought John had been put under a spell, believing a stranger all of a sudden when all his life, John had never trusted anyone except Jack and Mary. But the car had been with them for quite some time now and so far no harm was made. Even Jack had learnt to love the car though not to the extent of calling it baby like John did.

"I thought you like listening to gossip." Jack snickered and gained a smack to the back of his head. Rubbing the sore spot, he pouted a little – a childhood habit he couldn't put off when he was alone with John.

"The next time Jenny makes you listen to her whines I'm not going to help you out dude**,**" John warned – Jack was so getting his payback.

"Touchy!" Jack made a face and took a swig of his beer. He watched as John followed suit, then sighed. "Hey**, **John?"

John turned his attention to him – like he always did when Jack used this intonation. "What?"

Jack looked his brother in the eyes and shook his head. "Nothing."

He'd been living with his little brother for so long John understood what Jack was trying to say. "Save your soap drama for Jenny man."

"You're a jerk!" His elbow met John's ribs. But then he took a deep breath and smiled. "Just…whatever happens, we'll keep this family together**, **okay?" He had to say it.

Knowing his brother's reluctance towards heart-to-heart talks, Jack had expected some witty remarks as a response to his request. So when John answered "Yeah," he was caught off guard. "We'll keep this family together."

"Whatever happens?" That was a little brother asking for confirmation, needing security.

"Whatever happens." John confirmed and clinked his bottle to the one Jack was holding. "And our kids are going to make sure it continues that way."

"Yeah." Jack smiled as John's words reminded him of something.

They were not alone anymore.

**END**

* * *

a/n: So, this is it, the end of this story and hopefully the beginning of the sequel. And I'm so sorry I'm way behind all reviews (they're awesome by the way) and I promise I will soon reply to all of them. Thank you for the patience (you'd waited like half of a year for this to finish) and for that you deserved all the love I could give. *hugs each and every one of you*


End file.
